Her and Them: Summer
by FloodFeSTeR
Summary: What makes you think they're so dangerous? Maybe they're just trying to protect each other. - - Daryl/OC/Merle, more lust than romance - - Mature content - - You guys, seriously, review
1. Preface

_Hi! _

_So, I have the original version of this story on my profile under the title The Divide. But as I was going through everything, I began to hate myself. A lot of things were rushed, plenty of grammatical errors and I had no sense of organization. But! Hopefully I can fix that up in the new version we're reading right now. Plot holes will be filled and other things will be explained. How about we start with the basics?_

_**Summary: **__What makes you think they're so dangerous? Maybe they're just tryin' to protect each other._

_**OC: **__Marcine – her full bio is on my page, please read for an explanation._

_**Set: **__First season and so on._

_**Warning (s): **__Extreme violence, graphic rape, consensual sexual violence, psychopathic tendencies, cannibalism, possible three ways and lust triangle – plus a few other things I don't want to give away just yet. You will be warned of the content at the top of each chapter, no worries. I don't believe its right to subject an entire story to an M rating when there are just a few chapters with rough content. Daryl is far from the sweet hearted angel we see in Walking Dead. If you read the original version of this story, you will understand what I mean. Story will be in third person._

* * *

><p>"<em>She had no idea she was<br>going to unlock the vault of  
>utter insanity…she had<br>merely just skimmed the  
>surface of the madness that<br>lay hidden below in the  
>dark corners of his mind."<em>

_Right Now It's Your Tomorrow_

* * *

><p>They say madness breeds madness.<p>

Maybe that's true.

Maybe.

I don't really know anymore.

It seems like I was normal, or maybe that was a dream I had years ago, when everything was perfect behind my rose colored glasses.

You see, I'm what you call a survivor. I'm not a rarity or anything, there are plenty of survivors, but I'm just a different breed. Yep, I said it, a different breed. Can't really explain why I'm different from others, I just know I am. And I'm not alone, I have others that are just like me. Well, not really, but really. Understand? I wouldn't expect you to. When I try to explain this to others, they never understand and I don't really expect them to.

I don't need them to.

I call myself a survivor, others call me a monster. How am I a monster? We all do what we have to, to survive in this hell we call reality. How am I any different from them? I'm sure they've done their own share of cruel things. I guess it doesn't matter though.

I think my difference is that I'm not alone in my throws of madness, I have someone that understands me completely.

He created me after all.


	2. Her

_I have to say, thank you ARG613. Half asleep so I got a lil stumped by your review, but it's all good now. My sister posted the wrong chapter for me last time. This is the second chapter.  
><em>

_R&R please, flames and praise alike are welcomr._

* * *

><p>She watched from the bedroll, her caretakers still unaware of her livid eyes. There was a woman standing just outside the open tent flap, her body tall and spindly, lanky. Her hair was wild on the crown of her head and her long fingers held onto her hips in a defiant stance. Her eyes were darting everywhere; to the flames of a fire just behind the man she was speaking to, to the strange woman on the bedroll, to the children playing somewhere she couldn't see. A tall man stared down at her, his lips quirked and pursed together. He had his hands on his hips, leaning towards the woman slightly. After another moment of staring, he reached back and rubbed his neck, groaning as he took a step back.<p>

"We can' take anymore people, Lori. An' what is she turns out to be a danger to the group," he argued, holding a hand out to her.

She rolled her eyes. "The Dixons bring back plenty of food, we have extra tents, plenty of space and do you see her," Lori gestured to the tent. "She's skin and bones. If we send her out there, she'll die. Shane, just let her stay until she gets back on her feet."

Shane sighed and looked towards the girl. His eyes widened slightly, spooked by the fact that her eyes were latched onto him with a strange intensity. He swallowed hard, looking back to Lori and then back to her. They were both eyeing him, waiting for his answer. Whatever answer he gave would sort this woman's future out in more than one way. But she was staring at him, staring at him with those large eyes. How could he say no now?

"Fine," he shook his head a little. "She can stay, but she's your responsibility. I'm not gonna bite my tongue is she messes up."

Lori glared, watching him give the stranger one more fleeting look before he turned his back and walked towards the R.V.; he was being completely irrational. Lori wiped at her forehead with the heel of her hand and turned to walk into the tent, glancing briefly at the young woman, who had her eyes closed again, truly trying to get some sleep, and then she crouched down, staring at her harshly. She was so thin, her skin was straining to stick to those cheek bones that were jutting out under her eyes. Lori ran a hand through her hair, looking up just as the young woman opened her eyes. When Lori noticed, she wasn't even fazed, she just stared at her impassively.

"So, is your name Minx, or is that even your bag," she asked slowly.

The girl just stared, her lips squeezed shut tightly. She didn't want to share anything, not with this stranger or any other. Silence had been a defense mechanism ever since she was a child and it still was. Lori sighed and pushed herself up, slumping into Carl's bed, watching the stranger that was currently occupying her bed. They stared at each other for a long time, one set of eyes a dark brown, the other a brilliant gold.

"My name is Marcine," she whispered to Lori, voice hoarse from screaming and misuse.

Lori cocked her head to the right, her tired face glittering with something. "That's a strange name, why does it say Minx on your bag?"

Marcine closed er eyes, breathing in deeply through her nose before she looked to Lori again. "It was the name of…of a girl I knew. Found her in a department store," Marcine's lips pursed for a moment. "I killed her. She was already dead."

Lori nodded slowly, a lump forming in her throat. "Well," she cleared her throat slightly, leaning forward. "We agreed to keep you set up until you're healed. If you want to leave, no one will stop you, of course you are welcome to stay."

Marcine nodded the best she could laying on her side. "Thank you, I haven't ran into many kind people since the shit hit the fan."

Lori smiled and stood. "Well, we try our best," she crouched down beside Marcine and pulled a black plastic bag from under the bed. "I mean, the world _just _ended after all, no sense in being a horrible savage just yet."

Marcine chuckled at her words and clumsily pushed herself up into a seated position, listening rather than watching Lori search through the bag. She rotated her arms a few times, finding the muscles sore and tired, her neck and spine cracking as she moved around. She hadn't realized how worn and tired she was, how haggard. How had she managed to stay alive? Survival instincts must have been going on over-drive. She looked to Lori when the woman made a small noise and saw her holding a can of peaches. She tossed it into the air and then caught it, twisting the top off before she handed it to Marcine.

"Here," Lori rummaged around for a plastic fork that had settled in the bottom of the bag. "You need to eat something."

Marcine smiled slightly and took the peaches and fork offered to her. "Thank you," she whispered, sliding the first slice into her mouth.

"No problem, want me to go tell your saviors that you're awake?"

Marcine noted the concern in Lori's voice, pausing in her eating. "You don't seem to want to, but I would like to know who we're talking about that is making you so nervous."

Lori looked out of the tent, looking just as nervous as Marcine said, bouncing on her heels slightly. "I don't want to go near them, they're not exactly good people."

"And who said I was a good person? You're talking to me," Marcine pointed at her with her fork, sliding another peach into her mouth. "Now come on, who we talkin' bout, what makes them so bad?"

Lori sighed and settled herself on the floor of the tent, knees pointed up. "The Dixons…they're rednecks, I guess. Not really social, not really nice when they are. I can't believe they saved you like they did."

Marcine snorted. "You make it sound like they're murders."

Silence filled the tent and Marcine looked to meet Lori's eyes. She was staring at the young woman with so much concern it made Marcine's stomach hurt. There was also something else in there, like she knew something but wasn't sure enough to voice it. What could possibly be so bad?

Eventually, Lori sighed and reached back, ruffling her hair as she shrugged. "I guess you're right, it's just…" she trailed off for a moment, watching something outside of the tent. "Some of the people in the group thinks they've killed people with the way they act. Merle is sadistic and obviously on heavy drugs. Daryl seems like the better half of them, but he still makes rude comments when he helps us."

Marcine snorted again, feeling more like herself than one of the dead. "Sounds like people I used to avoid," she set her now empty can of peaches to the right of her feet."

The look in Lori's eyes said she felt the exact same way. Marcine figured she was a house wife, one that went to little league games or ballet classes and hoped their child would become some super star but didn't push them too hard. She was like her mother, in every which way but insane. Model housewife. She looked the part, just like her mother. Marcine didn't really like that, she had never really liked her mother and she doubted after this, she and Lori would fair much better.

Lori sighed and pulled herself up to her feet, dusting off the back of her jeans. "Well, I have laundry to finish. I just wanted to make sure Shane didn't pester you, he has a habit of being annoying."

Marcine chuckled and tried to stand on shaky, twig-like legs but they almost gave out from under her and she swayed, Lori managing to catch her by her elbow before she could hit the floor of the tent. "Thanks," Marcine muttered, pulling her arm back towards her chest.

She didn't mean to be rude, Marcine just wasn't that big on human contact. She would revert back to herself when she got to feeling better, when she got back to feeling like herself. She didn't think she could stay here long, she didn't like the feeling she got. Like everything was normal, like this was just some camping trip. Looking around the grounds, she noted how clean everyone was and how happy they all seemed. Didn't they know the world ended? There were tents scattered in the tree line and there were three campfires set up around the area. There were two to her left and then, far from the main area of the group, sat two tents with a small fire still crackling between them. That must be where the Dixons were, their own little quarantine. She looked over her shoulder, not seeing anyone really paying attention to her, and she shimmied her way towards the tents.

As Marcine got closer, she realized that there was only one tent, really. The other was more of a sheet strung between two hefty sticks stuck in the ground. Someone liked to live upon the lap of luxury and the other didn't give a shit. She looked around again and then bent at the waist slightly, tucking her loose hair back to see into one of the tents. The sheet was empty but there was a sleeping bag and a black bag inside the tent.

She jumped and screamed when she felt thick fingers wrap around her hip bones.

She twisted around, falling onto the black dirt and looking towards the other side of camp. There were a few men jumping up, coming to her aid. She swallowed and looked back up at the man that had grabbed her and whimpers, pushing herself back in the dirt.

He was leering down at her growly, one hand running over his beer gut and the other curling and uncurling from a fist at his side. He was wearing tan pants that had holes and had blood stains in a few areas; Marcine wondered if it was Walker or human blood. He was old, that much was obvious from the lack of gray hair and the wrinkles at the edge of his eyes, the slight sag in his neck. He wore a vest and a black shirt underneath, his farmers tan on full view.

This was Merle.

It just had to be.

"Well well well," he leered. "Look who woke up while we was gone."

Marcine whimpered again. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean t-"

"Back off Merle," a gruff voice came from behind the older man. "Moron."

Merle looked annoyed when the younger man assumed to be Daryl pushed past him, sharp and icy eyes flashing over Marcine before sending a glare to the men that were waiting, wanting to jump in but not really knowing what to do. He looked back down at Marcine, who was staring up at him with wide, fearful, eyes. His hair was short and a dark brown, possibly black, but the faint stubble on his chin was dark with blonde patches. She watched his tongue snake out and slide over his bottom lip, making her eyes blur for a moment.

"Get yer ass up an' go on," he growled. "Don' feel like dealin with these jackasses right now," he grunted, nudging Marcine's leg out of the way so he could get into his tent.

A wide hand grabbed onto her elbow and jerked her to her feet. She looked up with slightly traumatized eyes at Shane, who was leveling a glare at Merle. But Merle only leered back, tongue sticking out slightly from the corner of his mouth. Marcine quivered when Shane began to drag her back to the other side of the grounds, eyes still locked with Merle's as he grinned after her. She found her feet at some point and pulled herself out of Shane's grip, walking behind him for a moment before she collapsed halfway back to camp. She braced her hands flat against the ground, a few tears slipping out into the dirt as she shook, still in fear of that man behind her. If that's what you wanted to call him, he seemed more like the devil and Daryl…she didn't know what to think about him, so she didn't give him a second thought.

She saw two pairs of shoes enter the edges of her vision and looked up through clouded eyes to the two women above her. One was a kind eyed young blonde and the other was a woman that appeared older than she probably was, her worn face and gray hair making her seem sort of alien-like. They smiled at her and offered her their hands, which she took gratefully and let them usher her to a log they had rolled up to one of the low burning fires. The men were scattered, but the majority of them were near the R.V.; only the women huddled around her, like they were a football team. Any other time, Marcine would have chuckled at the thought, but right now she just wanted to curl up and hide.

"Why the hell did you go over there," one of the two blondes asked, worry lines around her mouth and eyes.

"Andrea," the young blonde scolded.

Andrea looked offended. "What? I was just wondering, jeez," she threw her hands in the air a little and slumped down onto one of the logs.

The young blonde sighed and turned back to Marcine with her kind smile. "Sorry about Andrea, she's rude. My names Amy."

"Carol," the gray haired woman muttered.

"My name's Jacqui sweetheart," a pleasant black woman introduced herself, her image sharp.

Marcine smiled gently. "My name is Marcine.'

"So what _were _you doing over there anyway," Amy asked, lening forward a little to poke at the fire in front of her.

Marcine tucked a long strand of black behind her left ear. "I went to thank them," she muttered. "Guess that was a bad idea.

"Well yeah, they're not people anyone needs around really. Shane keeps them around because none of us know jack about surviving," Jacqui paused to scratch at her throat. "They're hunters."

Marcine stared at the embers of the fire, bright eyes lost in her thoughts. She should have listened to Lori's weak warning, they weren't good people. She should have just ignored it, but she couldn't help but be polite. It was just the right thing to do, even these days and Marcine needed to be on everyone's good side if she was going to stay here for more than a minute. And she meant _everyone's _goodside. Even those assholes. Now, Marcine was slightly terrified of this camp, because of Merle. Those two were dangerous, the look in their eyes was enough confirmation for her fears.

"Well it doesn't matter to me," Marcine muttered, straightening her back. "I'm leaving soon."

The woman looked to her in concern. "Why," Andrea asked, still looking like she was sulking.

Marcine shrugged, looking over her shoulder to the men. Shane and a heavy black man were hunched over a map that was laid out across a Jeep's hood. A young Asian man came up to, looking so young and curious. There was an old man and one in a jumpsuit working on the engine to the R.V. – Marcine made a mental note to try and help them with that, she knew a few things about cars and the like. She licked her lips and then looked to the brothers, that were now huddles around their fire. Daryl appeared to be scolding Merle, but he just laughed and waved him off, pulling something a large plastic baggie at his feet. She swallowed and turned back to the women, noting the air of concern. The way they looked at her made her feel like a child that didn't know how to do anything.

"I just…I don't want to be a burden," she muttered, lying.

Amy and Jacqui laughed. "Oh honey, trust us, you won't be a bother," Jacqui pat Marcine's knee. "We have plenty of food and supplies. You're fine, stay. You need it."

Marcine looked down at herself, noting the way her clothes were sagging and sighed, wrapping her arms around herself.

* * *

><p>"Yer an idiot," Daryl muttered to his brother, placing an open can of beans on their tiny fire.<p>

Merle laughed and struck his lighted, placing the end of a glass pipe between his lips. In ten seconds flat his pupils dilated to the point where there was none of that crisp green color left, only black. He blinked a few times, swaying in his seat before he shook his head. The pipe slipped from his fingers and dropped back into the bag.

"She a fine piece of ass," Merle muttered, lost in a drug haze as he saw her at the other camp.

Daryl kept his head down, eyes flashing towards her where she sat in the gaggle of women. She looked lost, like a child on their first day of school. She was nothing but a skeleton to him, a shadow of a former life. But he could see it, the strange potential coiled in her arms and legs. She was like a snake waiting to strike, all tight muscle and fear. Daryl snorted lowly to himself and nudged the can around.

"Stay away from 'er, Merle," he warned. "Don' need ya getting us kicked outta here."

Merle looked back to his brother, hating how he was such like a whipped dog at the moment. "Oh please lil brother," he leaned forward onto his knees, earning a glare from under Daryl's brow. "Know you would like to have 'er over here, bent back over th' way she were."

Daryl growled. "I said shut up," he quipped.

And Merle finally did as he told while Daryl pushed around beans. He swallowed slowly and looked up then, catching her eyes. She was staring at him with a plain look on her face. No hatred, no sneer, no fear. She was zoned out, probably not even really looking at him. He rubbed at his bottom lip, eyes sparking over her image.

She would do…she would do just fine.

* * *

><p><em>R&amp;R please! Isn't much different from the other chapter in The Divide, but I fixed so many mistakes and added a lot of stuff, so here ya go.<em>


	3. Them

**_I am so sorry I've been gone for this long. There were some technical difficulties with my computer but they're fixed now. Excuse any spelling mistakes I made, I didn't have time to proofread._**

* * *

><p><strong>Three Weeks Later…<strong>

* * *

><p>Daryl thrived in the silence of the morning.<p>

There were no cars, no helicopters, no inane human banter at five in the morning – his normal waking time. He could just sit in front of a lit fire and smoke a cigarette, do fucking nothing until the group began to rise from sleep. He was doing the same thing right now, hunched in on his knees and staring at the beginning of embers at the bottom of the flames that were too small to be any good. He looked up abruptly when he heard some sort of slapping, seeing a hawk speeding across the quarry. He grunted and looked back to the fire, taking a puff from his cigarette and blowing the white smoke up into the air. After another moment of sitting silently, he flicked the cigarette into the fire and rubbed his face.

He looked over to the rest of the camp when he heard shuffling.

She was coming from her ten, the pale curve of her back facing him as she looked around camp. She was a skinny little thing, but she had gained a tremendous amount of weight since she had become a part of the group. Most of her bones still showed and her clothes fit her too loosely for Daryl's liking but his opinion didn't really matter to her. She looked towards the quarry, biting her chapped lip for a moment as she nodded to herself, pulling her hair back into a bun. Daryl knew even with a decent amount of weight on her, she would still have those sharp ass cheek bones and that pointy chin.

He watched her bend into her tent slowly, leaving that supple ass in view and licked his bottom lip, pushing himself to his feet. He grabbed his crossbow and slipped out of her view, into the brush.

Yeah, Daryl was a dangerous man. She should watch herself, not that he would do anything to her but…being so open about that right there…hell, that would drive any man to his primal side.

* * *

><p>Her smooth legs sliced through the clear water, back bathed in the warm sunlight of the morning. Her arms propelled her through the waves and she smiled, diving under until she touched bottom. She kicked against the slick bottom surface and shot through the surface, gulping in air with a smile on her face.<p>

She felt _fucking normal._

Even for the apocalypse, she had been in rough condition. But thanks to the women, and the rare exception of the men around here (Glenn), she was doing exceptionally better. She could just _feel_ herself getting better – mentally, physically. The image was just a bonus.

She stepped out of the water, shivering a little as she wrung out her hair; she didn't notice the glint of the scope watching her. She grabbed a ragged, gray dress-thing from where she had draped it over a pile of rocks to get warm in the sun and wiggled it on, running her hands down her front. It was more of a long shirt, clinging in weird places, but until she got her turn to do laundry, this was all she had. She slipped her feet into her boots and started back towards camp, feeling a bit more chipper now that she was clean.

The women were up and gathered around a fire they were still building, yawning into their hands and wrapping their arms around their middles. They were mumbling amongst themselves and practically growled at Shane when he got too close. He had opened his mouth, as if to speak, but promptly closed it at the growling noises. He raised his hands and switched paths, headed towards the Jeep. Marcine hesitated for a moment on the edge of camp, contemplating going over there but too afraid. She was never really a people person, never had been. Around groups of people, she got tongue tied and said stupid things. She hated being embarrassed in front of more than one person. She wished she could just go through camp without being drawn into the women's going-ons but there was no way she could avoid that gravitational pull. This early in the morning, hell, they were like a black hole.

"Marcine, come join us, we have shitty coffe," Jacqui smiled at the young woman, holding a metal blue mug in the air.

Marcine smiled politely then shuffled over, sitting between Amy and her sister, Andrea. The older woman looked her up and down with approval, making Marcine almost want to growl at her. Andrea was not the nicest person and Marcine wished she had the nerve to tear her apart right there or even in private. But Marcine was not that type of girl, she didn't really like confrontations. But that was something she needed now, she needed to be stronger, she needed to be able to stick up for herself, defend herself. She didn't even know how to shoot a gun and sometimes there wouldn't be a knife in her hand; she would even settle for hand-to-hand training than nothing at all.

"So, Marcine?"

She looked up, face blank in thought. "Huh," damn, she was so smart.

Lori chuckled and took a sip from her coffee, cringing at the taste. "We were talking about why Daryl Dixon is staring at you so hard."

Marcine swallowed, fear slipping up her spine as she looked over her shoulder. There he was, meticulously cleaning his crossbow. She could see his bright blue eyes staring at her, from this angle it looked like he was glaring at her. She shivered and turned back to the fire, hands folded tightly in her lap.

"I don't know…" she mumbled.

"Well," Amy leaned back to cross her legs and leaned forward onto her knees. "Never seen him look at any of us like that."

A collective 'same here' echoed around the fire and everything got quiet. It made her feel like the odd one out, and that was never a good thing in any situation. She looked up when she heard shuffling and saw Morales and his family head for the quarry. They looked so happy, like the world hadn't touched them, and Marcine helt her stomach churn. T-Dog reached over, appearing as if he came out of thin air, and grabbed the cup of coffee out of Jacqui's hand. She glared at him and reached into a large pack beside the log she was sitting on, pulling out another mug and pouring herself more coffee.

"That boy is gonna be th' death of me, I swear," she mumbled, leaning into her coffee.

"I was thinking of going over and talking to Daryl about training me with a weapon," Marcine mumbled.

Jacqui, Carol and Lori went completely silent while Amy made choking noises and Andrea jumped to her feet. "The fuck," she spat.

Marcine shrugged, looking up at her. "I just…do any of the other men know how to take care of themselves like he does?"

Looking around at the doubtful and fear filled face gave her the answer she was looking for. Lori cleared her throat and set her mug in the sand by her feet. "Honey…I just don't think any of us think that's a good idea."

"Why? Because they seem like bad people," where was this defensiveness coming from? From her insane notion she was attracted to the perpetually-angry redneck in question? Perhaps. "You guys don't know if their bad people or not, they just might be misunderstood."

"Honey this is not high school, those are not just _some punks_," Jacqui scolded, her face creased in worry. "Those are full grown men with plans and wants, wants they have already displayed to us. They are not…trustworthy," she straightened her back. "They have made their mark on us."

Marcine leaned forward a little, some kind of aggression bubbling in her chest. "And what mark would that be? Not talking to any of you? Not being friendly? Is their acting like the world went to shit, which it did, bother you?"

Andrea hesitated and then twisted to crouch in front of Marcine, taking her shaky hands in her own. "Marcine…the day they brought you in, they were watching for scragglers near the road leading into the quarry. Dale was watching them. He said he heard a scream, saw the Dixon brother come back with a fresh corpse following behind them," Andrea swallowed, remembering finding that body when she went to investigate later that night. "And he said Merle was playing with it, toying with it like it was a pet."

Marcine pulled her hands away. "Merle," her voice was shaky for some reason. "Not Daryl…"

Lori looked like she was about to burst. "But we don't know exactly what ha-"

"You know what happened, Lori," Andrea whispered, looking over her shoulder then back to Marcine. "They…they're not good people, ok? Please think more about this decision before you go out there, asking them to take you alone away from us."

"We need someone to go into the city," Shane interrupted, raising an eyebrow to Andrea.

She looked up at him and sighed. "Well, I'm willing to go."

Lori stood, clasping her hands together in front of her. "Shane, I don't think that would be ok right now."

He sighed, rubbing his face. "And why wouldn't it be," he mocked. Well, sort of.

Marcine stood and wondered back to her tent, falling onto her bedroll with a heavy sigh. It was starting to heat up in the tent, the air thick with humidity. She rolled onto her back, arms spread at her sides. She was so hungry right now, but there was no way she going over to Shane and asking for a dip in the food supply. They were running low on canned and bagged food, they were almost solely relying on the Dixons for nourishment. Marcine never realized how good squirrel was until now; of course, she never thought you could eat it, what with the diseases carried by small mammals and such…

She wanted to be able to do that on her own, wanted to hunt on her own, take care of herself. She wanted to be able to fight her way out of something she could never handle no matter her physical health. Daryl and Merle could help her, if they wanted to. She was scared of them…but she didn't want to die. She wanted to live, even if the world was pure hell right now, she wanted to be able to live as full a life as possible, even if she might not live to see the age of thirty.

She rolled onto her side, staring across to a large trash bag full of musty clothes. She didn't even know how to wash clothes like a survivor, dear Lord.

She shot up, back straight and she peeked out of the tent, towards the Dixon camp. Daryl was still hunched over his crossbow but Merle had come from his tent; when he saw her peeking, he grinned sickly at her and she bit her tongue. She could see the bag in his hand, saw him pull out something small and knock it back, taking a sip from a half-full whiskey bottle. Marcine licked her lips, pushing herself forward.

**What are you doing?**

**_I'm surviving._**

**By walking into the hornets nest, no deal.**

**_What if they don't sting?_**

**Oh, they most certaintly will.**

Her adrenaline was pumping on full, her tiny fists curled at her sides. She passed T-Dog and Glenn, who eyed her curiously. Past Shane and Lori, who were too curled up in their own argument to bother her with a glance. Past the gaggle of women who she heard gasp. Why gasp? It was so cliché.

When she stopped beside Daryl, he simply froze, but Merle leered grossly. She didn't feel that shiver of disgust or fear trickle across her spine, she felt nothing. Daryl looked up when she said nothing and for a moment, she got caught in those eyes. Too deep, too beautiful, to belong to a monster.

"What," he asked, voice gruff.

She swallowed hard, almost painfully. "Teach me what you know," she said, barely above a whisper.

He could have taken it in any direction, but he knew what she wanted, and scoffed. "Hell nah, you couldn't handle it.

"Yes I can! I can handle anything you would throw at me. I need to learn and them over there…they know you can do it but…"

He looked up at her. "Hell. No," he bit out.

"Aw, c'mon lil brother," Marcine felt a heavy arm drape over her shoulders. "Let's go teach the lil miss how to handle 'erself."

"Merle," Daryl said in a warning tone.

His eyes were sharp, suffocating, so was that arm wrapped around her. She felt suffocated, like she was gonna pop, like she was already staring over the edge. There was no turning back if he said yet. No turning back from what, she wasn't quite, sure, hadn't grasped the situation yet. She didn't notice the look in Merle's eyes, didn't notice the way Daryl's eyes raked over her, his prize, and she sure as hell didn't notice the way Shane was ready to blow both Dixons heads off.

Marcine cleared her throat though. "Now dammit, you need to show me how to handle myself. Please, I don't care what it is. Teach me, I…I need to know how to do this. I can't live in this world the way I am and I don't want to die, not yet."

He stared at her, ice blue eyes flickering between her face and his brothers. It was like he and his brother were having a quick conversation, checking off things on an imaginary list. Marcine could feel the tension, smell the testosterone.

"Fuck," Daryl sighed, standing and looking her up and down, _appraising her. _"We start tomorra…"

* * *

><p><strong><em>So guys, give me feed back. May not be the chapter you were expecting after such a long wait but I plan to update real quick after this. I don't want to leave you all hanging again.<em>**


	4. Thrill

**This is pretty much just an edited – revised – version of the chapter from The Divide. **

**A/N: Thank you kazzibee for the review, it made me so happy and you are the kind of reader that makes me want to keep writing.**

* * *

><p>Marcine had never been good with being alone.<p>

She sighed and pushed herself up and out of her tent, rubbing her arms as she walked around the small fire that was still burning. She looked around the camp, wondering who had last been up, and she sat on one of the logs Shane and the others had rolled up here. She could feel some of the dew seeping through the fabric of her dress-thing and shivered a little, poking at the fire in front of her.

It didn't grow.

"Th' hell ya doin up so late?"

She looked up, startled and heart hammering in her chest. Daryl was standing above her, his scruffy face formed into an almost permanent sneer, crossbow slung over his shoulder. He was so intimidating, especially when she couldn't really get a good look at him.

"Well I uh…I couldn't sleep," was all she could manage, which was the truth. She gained a bit of a back bone and looked him fully in the eye. "What are _you_ doing up so late?"

He grunted and actually sat beside her, close enough so she felt his body heat; it was strong and heavy. "Neva sleep," he mumbled, leaning his crossbow against the log between them.

She caught his eyes in the faint glow of the dying fire, saw those icy orbs raking over her, taking her in dangerously. It made her shiver, made him grunt but he couldn't know why she was shaking. Or did he? He actually looked, in this moment, like the man that the others had warned him about yesterday. He looked like a predator, hunched in on himself and examining her.

"Where's your brother," she asked, wanting to distract him.

It did the trick; but judging by the look in his eye, it was the wrong kind of distraction. "Don' know, don't care."

"But he's your brother," she cocked her head to the right; he noted the thick curl of auburn hair that fell into her eye.

His eyes snapped to hers as she brushed it back from her face, his eyes livid and almost growing, like a jungle cats. "Don' worry bout him."

She felt her temple flare. "Why the hell did you come here is you were gonna be a jackass," she growled.

He stared at her for a long moment, glaring at her dangerously. She felt like a moron, she really, really did. She had never acted so gruffly. But, he just made her so damn angry so easily. How the hell could he just walk over here and act like that, expect her to just go along with his attitude?

He chuckled.

It was dark and it scared her a little.

But when did he not scare her a little or a lot? Just being near him sent those chills up her spine.

Feisty lil one ain' cha," he stood, swaying as he grabbed a hold of his crossbow. "Guess ya ain't the princess Merle thought ya was."

He started to walk away and she still stared at him with her mouth agape, like a fish. When he was starting to get too far away, she jumped to her feet and jogged towards him. She grabbed a hold of his upper arm, squeezing hard enough for her nails to break skin. She could feel the tan flesh give way, felt the blood leak under her nails but he didn't seem fazed by it and neither did she. Marcine noticed the small devil beside her hand, wondering why she hadn't noticed it before. It's wings were spread and its mouth was open, almost like it was grinning at her. She jerked her hand away, cradling it in her other hand as she slowly looked back at her, one eyebrow raised. She hadn't meant to do that, but he couldn't just walk away.

He seemed to be bringing out her worst impulses.

"Th' fuck ya want now?"

She looked up to meet his eyes, trying to find the fear clogging her throat. She felt like she was choking but knew she was fine; sort of. "I…did you meant it. I mean, when you said you would help me?"

He nodded. "Merle and I, we help ya tomorrow."

She smiled slightly. "Thank you Daryl," she whispered.

He stared at her with slightly widened eyes, like he was surprised to hear a thank you from anyone. Then he growled and stomped away, back towards his side of the camp.

* * *

><p><em>She wasn't quite sure what time it was.<em>

_Didn't care._

_She felt amazing._

**_You're evil._**

**_I _****_know_****_ I'm evil._**

_It was nothing new, she got it from her mother._

_A blissful smile on her lips, she twisted in the palm of his hand._

**_Evil._**

_"Mine…"_

**_Yours…_**

* * *

><p>What the fuck was wrong with him?<p>

He shouldn't have agreed to help that bitch.

He didn't care if she died, didn't care if she was eating alive, tortured until dead.

He grumbled and jerked his knife through the squirrels abdomen rather roughly, even for him, letting entrails squish against the toes of his boots. He looked out of the corner of his eye and saw her sitting between the two blonde sisters, not smiling, just staring and nodding occasionally while the two women laughed around her. She didn't want to be over there, but she had nowhere to go, nowhere to hide.

She wanted to leave but she didn't want to die.

That was her thing, she didn't want to die.

Most of the time Daryl thought about death, what a sweet pleasure it would be to just not have to deal with this world anymore. He had never really wanted to be here in the first place, Ma always called him a mistake, a drunken one at that. He always hated her, his Pa as well. His Ma was an angel compared to that sadistic bastard. She was a sort-of God send, at least when she was around, his Pa didn't come after young Daryl.

For the first time in forever, Daryl felt a strip of fear lick up his spine, dig it's nasty claws in and secure itself.

Daryl didn't get scared, he never got jumpy or stupid, he prided himself on being stoic and calm, collected ya know? Lately he had been getting this way, for about a week or two now, he hadn't been the same. Merle hadn't changed, still got fucked up when he could, still passed out in the sane when he wanted to, but he was having to slow down on his supplies thanks to this whole apocalypse thing. He was starting to suffer withdrawal more often. Suffer was the correct term and it was something Daryl thought he deserved and laughed at. His brother was full of shit and Daryl was always angry with him. Always.

Like right now, when Merle was dangerously close to slumping into the fire Daryl had _just _made.

"Merle," Daryl snapped, kicking up dust at him.

Merle grumbled and sat up, eyes still closed. "Ya need ta get laid lil brother," he mumbled, reaching up to scratch at his belly.

Daryl grabbed a firm hold of the squirrels fur and jerked down, leaving it to hang like looking like a newborn, hairless and wet with blood. "Ya bought to fall into my fire, gonna put it out," he grumbled, using his knife to cut the squirrel down, the fur draped over the edge of their log; of course, he didn't deny needing to get laid.

"Where that fine bitch," Merle broke the silence.

Daryl went silence for a moment before he cleared his throat a little and started to cut the squirrel into bite sized pieces. "She jus' got up, should be over here soon enough."

Merle smiled a slick smile, the one he always had on really and swayed for a moment. "I got a few things I can teach 'er and it ain' got nothing to do with surviving…"

"Ain' lettin ya near her Merle," Daryl growled. "Don' need the whole camp comin down on us. I ain't got the patience to deal with them."

"Yeah, yea, yeah," Merle waved a hand and swayed to his feet, groaning as he leaned back slightly.

He swayed back too far and stumbled a little, catching himself before he hit the dirt. He chuckled to himself and stumbled into his tent. Daryl rolled his eyes when he heard his brother hit the ground and strung up a piece of the squirrel on a stick, securing it in the ground before he folded one leg beneath himself. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket. He packed them with the palm of his hand, looking back to where she was walking towards her tent. She stopped for a moment, looking over at him.

When she saw him, she seemed scared.

He snickered as she dove into her tent, pulling a cigarette from the pack with his teeth. He cupped his palm over the flame of his lighter and inhaled deeply, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke into the bright blue sky. There wasn't a fucking cloud up there, nothing but the hot fucking sun.

He didn't want to go out there with this girl.

Alone.

He wasn't ready.

The only thing he wanted to do with her was bend her over and dominate her, like a fucking dog. That was all she was good for, that was all most women were good for. She needed to be fucked, grabbing his arm like that, needed to be dominated. He raised his arm closer to his eyes, seeing the crimson half moons in the black and brown grime. He shook his head and lowered his arm, taking a quick drag from his cigarette. He sighed out the smoke, scratching the back of his head. Strangely enough, he felt like he needed a shower. He probably should get one with all the cuts on him. Didn't need them fucking getting infected. He didn't want to die from something like that, he wanted to die by a shot in the head at least.

At his own hands.

He justified it as his life, he was the only one that should be able to take it.

No walker or other human would be the one to do that.

* * *

><p><em>"What are you thinking of?"<em>

_"The cold."_

_"Of course."_

_"It's all around us," her eyes blurred and she rubbed them with her knuckles. "All I see is white…"_

* * *

><p>She hesitated on the edge of her tent, wondering whether or not this was a good idea. She lifted a hand up, wrapping it around her throat, knees rubbing together as though she had to pee. Her boots were chaffing her ankles because of her nervousness. She could hear a few of the women murmuring, the curiosity spreading like wild fire. She should have left this camp when she had the chance. The moment she had woken up that morning, the women had been bitching at her, begging her not go over there, to not go into the woods with them. But of course, she was going to go, but she is scared. Not because of what the women said, not because of the Dixons, but because she was afraid she would never learn and that this would be a big waste of time.<p>

"Why are you going over there, Marcine?"

She looked over her shoulder at Glenn, who was staring at her with those beady, concerned, eyes. She sighed and tucked a strand of free hair behind her ear. "Because I need help Glenn, I need to be tough for this world and this is my only option."

"No it isn't, Marcine," he stepped up at her side. "You don't need to be as tough as them, you can be just the way you are. No one is judging you."

Her eyes widened a fraction. "You think _that's _why I'm doing this," she scoffed. "Because I care about whether or not the group sees me as useful or not? No, this is about me. I know I can't survive without being tough in this world."

"So you think you have to be like them," she was surprised he didn't growl at her.

"If…" she looked down, wrapping her arms around her middle. "If that's what it takes, then yes."

"It's a mistake, Marcine."

"Don't come back."

Marcine looked over at Shane. He had his hands on his hips and was staring at her with a glare she would have normally shied away from. She just stared at him. A few group members were looking at her with concern, a few showed disdain.

"You have to be joking," she whispered.

He shook his head, no concern in those eyes. No sympathy for what was coming to her. "No, I'm not. Those people over there," he pointed past her. "They are not people I want anyone in my group to associate with. I know what they've doe and I don't even think they should be _breathing_ let alone supplying our food."

"But that's the thing – they are _supplying _you with food and you are so willing to say they're worth more dead than alive."

Shane waved a hand at her. "I simply do not care, they can cut us off whenever they want to. I don't trust them and I don't trust anyone that goes near them so willingly. If you want them to help you so much, go over there and don't. come. back."

She stared at him in disbelief. _His group_? And no one was offended by the way he was just throwing her out, no one was offended by the way he claimed them as his, a right he had no claim to in the first place. She looked over at the Daryl and Merle's side of camp, saw Daryl griping at the open tent flap of Merle's tent, waving his arms around everywhere. Was it really worth it? Was learning how to take care of herself worth pretty much _giving _herself to the Dixon brother?

She looked back down at her feet, looking up with a tired look on her sharp face.

"Can I at least get the tent?"

"No," Shane growled. "I'm sorry but we need it for Amy and Andrea. Looks like you're sharing a tent with one of those filths," he swallowed thickly and turned around, stomping back towards _his _camp like a pissed pup.

Glenn still looked at her with those fucking eyes. "Marcine…"

She shook her head softly. "No, Glenn."

She liked Glenn, she really did, but there was this little black monster in the back of her head that was telling her that he needed to mind his own damn business. She wasn't a concern of his but it made her feel sort of special, that someone actually cared enough to warn her.

"Ya fuckin' mor –" Daryl stopped abruptly when he noticed her a few feet beside him.

The glare he leveled her with was icy, but she didn't shy away. She had to be tough and dealing with him would be a great start. "I'm uh…I'm ready when you are."

He grunted and pointed into the tent flat, glaring into a space she couldn't see into. "I ain' done withcha."

Merle peeked his head out of the open tent flap, grinning at Marcine; she only smiled softly. "Well hey there girly!"

"Hi Merle," she mumbled.

He still scared the bejeezus out of her. The first day she had met him was terrifying and she wished it hadn't happened but honestly…she hated to admit this, even to herself, but it gave her some sort of sick thrill. She had never felt something like that before, had never had a man treat her that way. Now she understood that whole 'bad boy' thing her friends talked about. She always thought they were stupid or it was nothing but stupid teenage bullshit.

"Well, what are we waiting fer," he pushed out of the tent, standing fully and looming over her by a head and a half.

She watched him and Daryl stalk past her with hunched shoulders, feeling like she was following some primal beasts.

* * *

><p>"You did what!?"<p>

Lori seethed at Shane, chest to chest with him and as thoroughly intimidating as him with that wild look in her eyes; she was over protective over this stranger.

He swallowed slowly and took a small step back. But of course, she followed that step and was against him again. "Lori I don't want her or them –"

"Shane, what if they do hurt her, huh? What if they rape her, torture her? What if they fucking _kill her_?!"

Shane did consider that, he honestly did, before he even thought about saying anything to her. "Lori, I think if she wants to go over there willingly despite every warning we have given her, then she belongs over ther.

Lori still glared at him, but he could see her dying down. She had reservations about that woman ever since they took her in. She thought Marcine was crazy, sure; bitch was coated head-to-toe in blood when the Dixons brought her, her whole pack was soaked through. And it wasn't Walker blood. Too fresh, not congealed enough, no clots. It was human. Shane didn't trust the woman, didn't want her anywhere near his people. Most of the men were on his side, even that old fucker Dale was on the same page, and he didn't want her near the children. She needed to be with the Dixons, with those filth that insisted on provoking everyone else in the group every chance they got.

"Shane, if she gets hurt," her eyes were still bright but her edge was dying down. "I swear, you are going to regret it."


	5. Fuck

_**Warning (s): **__brief sexual 'contact' at the end of this chapter. Not technically consensual._

* * *

><p>It was hard to ignore the feelings churning in her gut as his chest pressed against her back. She was trembling slightly, but listening to his deep, rhythmic breathing against her helped her calm down. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, breathing out slowly through her mouth.<p>

"Good, breathe in deeply. You has to be calm for this," he breathed against her throat.

She smelt musk and old hints of mint and it made her shiver all over. "I'm trying," she whispered.

"Try harder," he growled, making her throat vibrate.

She swallowed hard and opened her eyes, releasing the arrow. It whistled through the air and struck the target dead on. She stared at the arrow, stunned for a moment with her bow dangling from her fingertips by the string. A grin broke out on her face, one made entirely of teeth, and she whipped around to Daryl, tackling him to the ground with her arms wrapped around his throat.

"I did it! I actually fucking did it!"

Thick fingers hooked into the hem of her shorts and lifted her up, leaving her dangling comically in the air above Daryl. He grumbled and wiggled out from beneath where she was dangling, jumping to his feet and stalking towards the thick oak tree twenty feet from them. He jerked the feather fletched arrow from the white circle drawn with some sort of cream Merle had produced. She squirmed in Merle's gasp, kicking her feet and waving her hands, bow clenched tightly in her left hand still.

"Merle let me go!" she whined, giving up and just dangling there.

He laughed a maniacal laugh and dropped her onto the forest floor. Marcine hit the ground with her face first, giving an oomph. She just lay there, groaning a little before a boot dug into her left side and rolled her over. She opened her eyes and saw Daryl staring down at her, emotions faint on his face. He held out a hand to her, obviously giving up on shielding her away from him. She took it with a smile and let him jerk her to her feet.

"Good fer ya first shot," he mumbled gruffly.

She smiled a little wider then squeaked when he grabbed a hold of her elbow and spun her around to face away from him. She stood there, stiff as a board as she felt one of his large hands cup her hip, pulling something through her belt loops.

"D-Daryl what are you doing?" she whispered.

"Hookin this holder up," he muttered.

She relaxed instantly, closing her eyes and sighing. "Sorry." She whispered.

"Why ya sorry girly?"

Marcine hesitated but didn't answer him, instead looking over at Merle, but only for a split second. Because he gave her a grin that made her stomach churn. Because she wanted to smile back.

* * *

><p>Lori paced back and forth in front of the small fire Andrea and Amy were building, wringing her hands methodically; Amy gave her a side glance, surprised she didn't see permanent wrinkles in her skin.<p>

"Lori," Amy muttered. "Calm down, 'm sure they're fine. Worrying about them will do ya no good."

She shook her head. "I'm not worried about _them _Amy," she looked back to the path the Dixons had been worrying into the trees. "I'm worried about _her_."

Amy smiled softly. "Come sit, Lori," she pat the log beside her. "They can't be all that bad, plus Daryl is ok enough. He can make sure Merle doesn't do anything."

That definitely did not put her at ease.

Lori cast one final glance at the path then sighed, shuffling to sit beside Amy. She pressed both of her elbows onto her knees and held her head in her hands. She didn't expect to act like this over a girl she didn't even know, over a girl that almost no one in the camp trusted. No one understood her reasoning for caring for this young girl. Marcine was just a confused woman, she didn't know right from wrong apparently. The mention brought up the memory of the blood on her, her back pack. In the state she arrived in, it had to be a Walker, just had to be. How could she fend off a 'normal' person when she was nothing but skin and bones? Everyone else in this damn group was so quick to pass judgment on her before they even got to know her. Marcine was funny, witty and very intelligent. But she was book smart, not street smart like ya needed to be dealing with those Dixons, or at least one of them. Lori could not believe Shane just threw her to the wolves by forcing her out of the camp. Lori had to at least try to make both of them see reason. She didn't want to lose the poor girl, she didn't want to see her…swallowed up by them.

"Hey mom," a small voice came from her left.

She looked over and saw Carl and Carol's daughter, Sophia, standing a few feet behind him with Morales' children, Eliza and Louise. "What honey," she asked, smiling softly so as to keep him from asking questions.

"Can we go down to the quarry? T-Dog and Glenn said they'd watch us."

Lori looked around camp, seeing the aforementioned men standing near the slope down to the quarry. They noticed her eyes and paused from their conversing, waving at her. Lori sighed again and rubbed her forehead, nodding slowly.

"I guess so honey, just don't get out of their sight, ok," she smiled at the other children. "Same goes for you all."

The children's faces lit up. "Thanks mom," Carl practically yelled before he and the other children ran off towards the quarry.

"I wish I could be a kid again," Jacqui muttered, crossing her legs and leaning towards the fire to scoot a can of opened beans from the fire with a stick. "Seems like fun."

"Same here," Andrea sighed, looking up at the sky. "Don' miss the hormones though, or school."

"Adults go to school," Amy pointed out, a little smug while her sister rolled her eyes.

Lori chuckled but it was half-hearted, standing. "I…I think I'm gonna go rest. Can someone get me when they get in?"

Amy and Jacqui nodded, their eyes full of unspoken concern, but Lori didn't want their concern. No one seemed to care about that girl but her.

* * *

><p>"I can't believe I did that," Marcine groaned, pinching her nose.<p>

Blood dripped in heavy amounts around her fingers and onto her boots, making her stomach turn. Daryl rolled his eyes and made her stop by bumping his hand on her elbow, crouching down in front of her. Merle watched in amusement as Daryl produced a peach colored rag and pressed it against her nostrils. She sputtered as she held it, thanking him while he just grumbled at her, huffing before he adjusted the bow on his back.

"Maybe ya should've listened when 'e said tighten up," he barked.

"I figured that would make it worse for some reason," she grumbled, fumbling with the rag.

Merle snickered, swaying as he started walking again. "Dumbass."

"Shut the hell up," she snapped.

"Both a ya shut up," Daryl quipped, curving his back. "Gotta get back ta camp."

Marcine felt her stomach drop but said nothing as they started back the way they came, or whatever, she didn't know where they were going really. They could be…no, they wouldn't kill her, right now. They would have already done so. They had gone pretty far out into the woods and that had irked Marcine at first but then she realized it was for safety. Don't think anyone would be too happy if they ended up shooting someone by accident, especially one of the children. Marcine stared at both brothers backs as they stalked in front of her, Merle mumbling to himself as Daryl kept a keen eye out around the woods surrounding them. What was she going to say when they asked why she wouldn't leave?

"So girly," what's yer sleppin' arrangements," Merle grinned over his shoulder.

Psychic motherfucker… "How did ya know," she muttered.

He smirked, eyes flickering over her briefly. "Can' help but notice when ya had a whole gaggle of men swarmin ya earlier. What happen?"

She sighed. "They said if I came over to you for help…I couldn't come back to their side."

"Shoulda stayed over there," Daryl mumbled, adjusting his crossbow on his shoulder.

"What," Marcine asked.

"Ya stupid fer comin' over, shoulda stayed over there witht hem."

"I need to learn for to handle myself, Daryl. And, to be honest…you seemed like the only two people who know what the hell they're doing around here," she sighed. "I hate…how they act like it's one big camping trip, it drives me crazy."

It was the truth, she hated how they were trying to make everything normal. She didn't care if it was because of the kids or whatever, they all needed to get with the fucking program or something they couldn't handle would come barreling in and they wouldn't make it. None of this sunshine-lollipop shit would matter anymore.

"Oh just ignore Darylina, he's just a kill joy," Merle grinned again. "Ya can bunk with me girly."

Marcine swallowed hard, staring at Daryl's back. "Sure, Merle, that would work."

Daryl glared at Merle, who was one smug son of a bitch. "No," he barked. "Ya stayin with me."

Marcine suppressed a smile. It wasn't that she didn't trust Merle, it was just…she didn't trust Merle. To be honest, she didn't want to know what made her so terrified of him. He scared her, sure, but then again what didn't these days? She could feel herself though, she could feel the numbness and the ability to reason all bundled inside of her, confused with no escape. The lines between right and wrong were easy to blur, just took a good swipe of the hand and she…

"Ooo, possessive are we," Merle coos.

Daryl growls and Marcine can't ignore the fact that it makes her tingle. "Don' fuck with me, Merle," he warned.

Merle laughed and turned, walking backwards, winking at Marcine. "Someone needs to get laid, why don' ya help him with that sugar tits?"

Marcine's cheeks instantly flushed. "Wh-What?"

"Ignore 'im," Daryl hisses, grabbing onto his brothers arm and managing to push him forward. "Get yer ass on."

Merle laughed, catching himself with a jog and slowed back down to be at his brothers side. "I was jus' fucking with 'er, she knows that. Don't cha?"

Marcine looked between the two of them before she ducked her head. Yes, she had to sleep in Daryl's tent, she just douldn't handle Merle – didn't think she would have the strength to fend him off should something happened.

And she wouldn't fight Daryl if he tried.

* * *

><p>He could see her face thanks to the dim light filtering through the tent; Merle was keeping a steady fire going, probably smoking his brains out. Daryl could smell the meth.<p>

She lay with her back to him, head resting on one of his cleanest, bunched-up shirts. He noticed her hips first, how wide they were, that supple ass that was staring at him in the tight confines of her jeans. He licked his bottom lip and eased towards her, cringing at the sound the fabric of his pants made against the bottom of the tent. He swallowed hard and reached out, running a calloused finger around the hem of her jeans. He maneuvered himself up enough to see her face, licking his lips again. She was so calm, unaware.

He smirked as he dug a hand into the front of her jeans; he had always been good at this.

He ground his groin softly against her ass, cupping her full in his palm, his breathing getting heavier. He pulled his hand from her jeans and slowly eased it up into her shirt, cupping a full breast in his palm. She breathed in deeply, making Daryl freeze in place, eyes wide as he watched her face. She whined softly and rolled her head towards him, eyes fluttering open for a moment. She lifted a hand and he froze as it cupped the side of his jaw. She smiled a little before she went limp again, falling asleep with a heavy huff. He sat there a moment longer, knuckles brushing against the underside of her breast before he rolled away, flopping back and laying his arm across his face.

"God _dammit_…."


	6. First

_**I can't even begin to apologize for my lateness in this update. Just know I am thankful for all of you following this story and hope you don't hate me too much. This chapter isn't super long, I know, but its something and I owe you guys this much.**_

* * *

><p>Marcine stared up at the sky as she sunbathed at the edge of the cliffs above the quarry. She was watching the kids while they swam, Glenn was doen by the water, she was mostly taking Dale's shift to make sure no one came through without anyone knowing.<p>

"Its nice...isn't it?"

Marcine jumped and scrambled to her elbows before realizing it was Lori. The older woman smiled and tucked a wild strand of hair back from the wind, sinking to the grass beside Marcine. They both stared down at the clear water, at the kids splashing around and trying to talk Glenn into joining them.

"Yeah," Marcine muttered. "It is pretty nice...for the moment."

Lori sighed, picking at the grass. "Marcine..."

"Don't start a lecture," Marcine warned. "You and I both know this," she gestured to everything around her. "Won't last long," she settled back into the grass and closed her eyes. "I'm sorry you can't see that when I can. I'm done talking about it."

Lori sighed again then noticed the small hand gun strapped to her thigh. "You have a gun now?"

Marcine peeked through one open eye then closed it again. "Yerp," she muttered. "Daryl gave it to me - I can actually shoot it."

Lori furrowed her brow. "You couldn't shoot?"

Marcine sighed. "Do you even listen to me?"

"Eh, I fade in and out," Marcine chuckled. "So, they actually helped you?"

Marcine grunted and pulled herself up, looking over at Lori with a blank expression. "Yeah," she let her head roll back. "Did you know Merle was in the Army? I mean, not for long obviously but he has gun training."

"So does Shane..."

Marcine scrunched up her nose. "And he hates me."

Lori shook her head. "No, he doesn't hate you he just...okay, he might hate you, but I really wish you too would make up."

Marcine rolled her eyes and looked over at Lork. "Look, I know you want us to get along but its not gonna happen. And I'm sorry, for you. He can go fuck himself," Lori sighed. "Now," Marcine pushed herself to her feet, dusting off the backs of her jeans. "Lets go play with the kids, I also think Glenn would appreciate us saving him."

* * *

><p><em>"You ever think of doing something else?"<em>

_He hummed for a moment, trying to concentrate but failing with her around. "Ain't nothin' left to do," he murmured. __She sighed, rolling onto her back; the grass was so soft, the sky was so dark. It was the first sleep she had, had in weeks. "Guess you're right..." _

_He snorted. "I know I am."_

* * *

><p>It had been too long since Marcine had really <em>laughed.<em>

Since the Outbreak, she had been mostly alone. And scared. Before the Outbreak, she had been alone solidly, when she wasn't taking care of her bi-polar momma; she wondered where her sister was, then shook her head. Sherri could take care of herself, she didn't need Marcine. But still, she hoped Sherri wasn't with their mother. She wouldn't be safe with that woman, not when Marcine knew she didn't have access to her medication.

She was probably full blown crazy now.

A crackle brought Marcine out of her reverie and she followed Daryl's curving form as he stood; his arms twitched as he stretched them above his head, muscles rolling against each other. Hot damn. Merle was leering at her. Marcine tucked her face away and Daryl trailed off to do whatever he was going to do while Merle leaned to her side.

"Like what ya see," he leered.

"Shut up, Merle," she mumbled, but it was only half-heartedly.

Merle chuckled and leaned forward, shuffling around the hot coals in front of them. "Jus' sayin, ya better get on it before that house wife tries him on for size."

Carol.

Marcine tucked her chin against her right shoulder and peered back at the fire on the other side of camp. Carol was seated with her daughter on a long log, stiff as a board but her daughter was relatively oblivious. Ed was reclined in a foldout chair, sipping languidly at something in his hand; Marcine watched his eyes shift to his daughter and she saw red with the way his beady little eyes rolled over her.

Marcine stood, hands shaking and on a mission; Merle didn't notice her departure, he was too concerned with the glass pipe he was prepping. Marcine kepg her teeth grit as she stomped towards Ed, her nails breaking skin in her palm. No one noticed her until she landed a rather heavy-handed punch to Ed's skull. Carol squeaked and latched onto her daughter, pulling her away as everyone jumped to their feet.

"You sick son of a bitch," adrenaline pushed her as she kicked him in the side of the head, keeping him on the ground. "Lookin' at your own daughter like that!"

When she pulled her knife, Shane finally spoke up; when she looked at him, he saw rage. "Put the knife down," he muttered.

Marcine barked out a laugh, slamming her boot down on Ed's throat; he coughed and sputtered, blood trickling from his nose. "Put it down," she asked incredulously. "I'll put something down, but it won't be my knife," she twirled the blade around, pressing the sharp edge against Ed's throat. "I'll put Ed down..."

Lori shivered and turned to Carl. "Sweetie, go get in the tent," she nudged him towards it then looked at Morales and Carol. "Get them away from here," she hissed."

Morales nodded and took his children's hands, pulling them away; Sophia followed on her own, Carol was frozen in terror. Marcine could care less, she just wanted this fuck to die. Sending him away had been an option, but Carol would go too. And she'd take Sophia. Even if they stayed, Ed would come back. He needed to die, there was no other way around it.

"Whatcha waitin' for," she looked over at Merle as Ed struggled under her. "Kill 'im if you're gonna do it," was this a test?

Shane glared at Merle. "You fucking redneck bas -"

Merle leered at Shane. "C'mon, Deputy...ya know you've wanted to kill this asshole from day one," he looked back to Marcine. "So go ahead and do it."

Marcine saw Daryl approaching in curiosity, his expression unchanging as she waited for his permission. Do it. She looked down in glee as she lifted her boot and ran the blade over Ed's thick throat. His eyes bugged and blood soaked the dirt; Carol screamed somewhere around her but Marcine didnt care, she was stepping back to view her handy work. When she looked over to Merle, expecting to see Daryl too, she saw nothing. She faltered, stumbling back a step and into Merle's hands; had he even been there to begin withh?

Carol flung herself ar Ed as he bled out, begging for him to stay with her. Marcine cackled as Merle drug her away, her feet getting tangled in each other but she stayed upright thanks to Merle's strong grip.

"Dumb bitch," she spat.

And Merle covered her mouth.

* * *

><p>He's watching them bury a body, Ed's to be exact.<p>

He draws thickly from his cigarette, ignoring the awful looks he gets from the men hefting Ed on their shoulders; the widow, Carol, scrambles for the body but the tall brunette snatches her up. What was her name...Lori? Yeah, Lori, loyal as fuck to Marcine. Daryl snorted and shook his head, ashing his cigarette once. He had to admit, he was a bit curious as to why she cared for the stranger so much, not like they had spent oodles of time together. They barely knew each other.

Daryl watched them drop Ed's body into a shallow grave, not an ounce of sorrow on their faces. Good. He didn't deserve their grief and they knew that; Daryl knew he and Merle had done some terrible things, but they never preyed on children. That was just sick.

And that thought alone was almost comical.

Daryl flicked his cigarette away, blowing smoke from his nose as he stuffed his hands deep into his jean pockets. He shambled back towards his tent with a dazed look, plans rolling around in his head; they were running out of time.

He froze when he heard it, the shift of sheet and a subtle moan.

Anger bubbled through his chest, in his throat. It tasted like bile. His boots kicked up dirt as he stomped towards the haphazard tent claimed as Merle's. As he metephorically ripped the flap open, he went livid, seeing Merle hunched over Marcine; she craned her head back and had a leg cocked up around his hip, her lips parted. She was a sight, his btother was not.

Daryl grabbed tight to Merle's shoulders and jerked him back, sending him rolling half naked in the dirt. Marcine screamed and covered her chest, staring at Daryl with plain regret and adrenaline.

"Get some fuckin' clothes on," he spat, pulling out of the tent. "You motherfucker -" he pointed at Merle.

"Aw, c'mon lil brother," Merle grinned as he wobbled on his feet, buckling his jeans. "Can't blame a girl, specially since the son of a bitch she's sharing a tent with won't bust a nut with her like she wants."

It wasn't the right time.

Daryl looked past Merle, saw Lori standing and watching them; no one was coming to Marcine's screams. He looked back to his brother, who looked equal parts smug and hateful.

"Not like ya can't get 'er again," Merle chuckled. "She wasn' a virgin, ya know? No sense in actin like a baby over nothin'"

That wasn't the fucking point; Daryl rubbed the heels of his hands up his forehead and into his hair. His chest heaved as he glared at Merle, then Marcine. She froze like a deer in headlights when she saw his attention. Merle acted like she wasn't even there. Daryl's chest heaved one more time before he pointed at Merle again, his voice low and deadly.

"Touch 'er again," he whispered. "And I'll kill ya."


	7. Mine

**_Ugh, bless you all for the love you give this story, it really makes me happy, even after the lulls between updates. I can't wait to get my computer back, just needs a battery now so ya know…._**_cross your fingers!_

_**Caffiend04: **__between your support and your profile picture, I can't decide what I love the most. _**_ShortNinja13: _**_Thank you for the review! _**_hidansgirl1234: _**_I totally forgot that was from the Boondock Saints eek._

* * *

><p>She feels horrible.<p>

She feels like a slut.

Of course she should, she just half-fucked Merle, the brother of her _crush_…she felt filthy. She bit her cheek, drawing blood over her tongue and shook her head to drown those thoughts back into the deepest recesses of her mind. How can she think like that? After everything that had happened, everything that she had done? There was just something about him, the way he stalked around in dominance, the way he actually protected people without it being a second thought – certain people.

She started running her fingers through her now knotted hair, roughly, and then growled when her fingers caught on a tangle. She tried to be calm about it, really did, then almost snarled as she yanked her fingers through there finally, breaking through the tangle. She clenched her left hand, feeling the handful of hair and then shook her hand violently away from her body, as if the strands were some evil little creature. Her heart was fluttering in her chest, mimicking a hummingbirds heart beat.

"Marcine?"

She looked up with startled, wide, eyes at Glenn and Amy who were looking at her with their own wide eyes, fear in the fleck. Marcine never wanted them to be scared of her, wanted them to like her like she liked them, but that ship had pretty much sailed, right?

She clasped her hands in front of her, as if she were begging them. "You guys, I am so –"

"Marcine, we won't let them _banish_ you," Amy shook her head, face twisted like she was disgusted which she probably was. "Ed, he needed to die. He was a pig."

Glenn looked over at Amy with worry then back to Marcine. "What are they doing to you?"

She blanked. "Huh?"

"Marcine, I don't know you very well but I know you're not like this. What you did, that is just…that's something they would do."

"You didn't even look human," Amy whispered.

Marcine stared at them, unconscious venom boiling in the back of her throat. "Your point?"

Glenn and Amy exchanged a quick glance. "Look, it doesn't matter," Marcine tensed under Glenn's hand as he brushed a hand over her left shoulder. "We just want you guys to stay. I mean, what if Shane lets another Ed into camp?"

"You'd be fucked, but if they send us away, they send us away," she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "I…I don't really care right now."

* * *

><p>He was so <em>fucking <em>pissed right now.

"Fucking slut," he hissed, stomping down on a rotting log.

It caved under his boot after the fifth blow, belching up dirt and dust in the air. A few termites and other creepers skittered from the hollow spot in the log, avoiding his boot as they swarmed out into the forest floor as thought they knew it was him that destroyed their home. He grumbled as he stomped over it, holding his revolver in his right hand. He just _really _wanted to shoot something, and the bugs weren't good enough. He didn't want it to be silent, he wanted to hear the sound of flesh ripping, some cry of pain. He needed I, craved it, but it looked like his luck was running out.

"Darylina!"

Daryl whipped around, fire in his eyes; Merle might just do. "Get th' fuck away from me Merle," he growled out, spreading his legs into a firmer stance.

The older male jogged to a stop in front of him, chest heaving. "Fuck nah, why you so angry? Just som' bitch, not yers."

"You're damn right she mine," Daryl spat, fingers flexing around his revolver handle; Merle watched the subtle twitch of movement. "Told ya from day _fuckin'_ one she was mine! You got the last one!"

Merle rolled his eyes, wagging a finger at him. "Told ya, start with a virgin, bitch is as far from it as it gets. She useless.

_She was not!_

Daryl swung the butt of his revolver around, knocking Merle in the cheek; the skin split, tore, and blood seeped against his stubble. Merle stumbled back, holding onto the now bleeding cheek as he leveled a glare at his younger brother. Daryl rocked back on his heels, a smirk gracing his smug, scruffy face.

"Hurt," he ground out, leaning forward at the waist slightly.

"Fuck right it does," Merle grumbled out, spitting out just a little blood. "Dumb bastard, ya cut my gums."

"  
>Good," Daryl turned away, walking a little further.<p>

He heard rustling a moment later and swung up and back from the left, cursing when Merle's thick fingers wrapped around his wrist in a vice grip. Merle twisted and elbowed Daryl in the abdomen, forcing Daryl to slam into his own back and he gasped, pain making the veins in his neck stand at attention. Merle jerked on Daryl's arm and smirked in pleasure as he heard Daryl let out a barely-there, strangled scream.

"Fuck you," Daryl hissed, cocking his knee and latching it around Merle's right leg. "She's mine."

He gave a quick jerk of his leg and they twisted, Daryl landing on top of Merle's back; he dug his knee against Merle's spine. Daryl lurched forward, beating Merle's hand to the gun and clicking it against the back of his brothers head, successfully paralyzing Merle against the ground. Daryl smirked, his back rolling in pleasure as he felt his brother quiver beneath him. It was bittersweet, considering how this was pleasure from having his brother _under _him, but domination ran in the family. He remembered watching his father beat his mother into submission in the kitchen, even when she would get the upper hand. After watching his brother do what he did with women for so many years, it almost mimicked how Merle killed their father.

_"Hurt, don' it?"_

"Do it," Merle growled, his breath making leaves and dust fly up and land on the back of his neck, his head.

Daryl stared at the back of his brothers head, contemplating on actually doing it. Should he? It was his brother after all, but he took what he wanted and he should pay; if Daryl would have even _thought_ of laying a finger on one of Merle's girls, he would have been beaten half to death. Daryl pressed his knee just a little deeper into Merle's spine, a twisted grin coming onto his face when he heard a gasp of pain. He dug the barrel in subtly deeper; he should do it, he should make him pay for going against his own word. Daryl took in a deep breath, closing his eyes before he grit his teeth, opening his eyes. He pushed himself up and off of Merle's back, pressing his boot against a shoulder to gain balance. Just before Merle could push himself up, Daryl pressed his boot up into the back of his neck.

"She a virgin when ya fucked her," he cocked his head.

Merle chuckled. "Hell nah."

Daryl almost muttered a curse, but then it would have gave Merle a sense of satisfaction – for getting under his skin – but he bit his tongue. He took two steps back, watching Merle stand with narrowed eyes; to the wolves. "Like I told ya, go near 'er again – and I'll fucking kill ya."

* * *

><p>Marcine stared into the fire in front of her, rocking back and forth slightly on the log she sat on. Glenn and Amy had left long ago, taking the children with them; Sophia and Carl had wandered over soon after they arrived, Sophia acting as though her father wasn't dead and her mother wasn't hysterical. Marcine was waiting on Daryl – and Merle, of course. Would they come back? Would they leave her? What if they were sick of her and the group? They couldn't just leave her, they couldn't.<p>

"Calm ya tits."

Marcine looked up, eyes curving at the edges as Daryl stomped past her and ducked into his own tent, her eyes ignoring Merle as he fell down in his. They had been gone for longer than two hours and now they show up with nothing but Daryl telling her to _calm her tits_? Marcine smiled into her knees, biting her lip slightly as she watched the red hot wood burn under flames. Could she sleep in Daryl's tent again? Wouldn't that just be wrong? Would it upset him? Did she really care? She wasn't tired, and she could hear Daryl still moving around, Merle was already snoring and his boots twitched in the dirt; how the fuck could she be attracted to that? Even for just a split second?

Marcine rubbed a hand over her head, disrupting her hair and she stood, hesitating on the way to Daryl's tent. As she brushed back the flap, she caught his eyes. He stood in the center of the tent, hunched shoulders and heaving. He was angry.

"Jus' gonna stand there?"

She jumped. "I…do you want me to sleep here? I can go stay with someone else."

He looked away, thoroughly frustrated. "I don't care."

"Yeah you do."

He glared at her. "Why?"

She froze, eyes wide. "Uh…what?"

"Why did you fuck him?"

She swallowed, wrapping her arms around herself. "I don't know…I, heat of the moment," she muttered. "I was so…"

_In heat._

"Don't do it again," he hissed.

And she jumped. "O-Of course," she crinkled her nose. "Never…ever again."

* * *

><p><strong><em>I wanted it to be longer but I have limited access to this computer and need to work on other things.<em>**


	8. Beginning

"Stupid redneck," Marcine muttered, rolling up his sleeping bag before kicking it.

She'd spent the better half of her morning organizing the tent she was unfortunately sharing with a certain, frustrating prick with legs. She knew boys were messy, but men were sloppy. She always ended up tripping over something when she woke up - the sleeping bag usually the culprit. She adjusted her tank top and breathed in deeply, listening the buzz of cicadas in the trees, thanks to the end of summer heat. She pushed her hair back from her face and stepped out of the tent, looking up at the gathering clouds.

"Looks like ya got herself a regular lil housekeeper, Darylina," Merle snickered, nudging a can of beans over the makeshift grill placed over their fire.

Daryl grunted to her right, working the tip of his knife into the tender skin and fur of one of his squirrels hung up. He cast a glance back at her and grunted again; Marcine wrinkled her nose as he ripped the skin from the rodent and dropped it at his feet. He went to work on the squirrels little tummy and Marcine rubbed her own, looking down at that tempting can of beans.

"Gonna toss som'a that on here," Merle grunted, gesturing to Daryl and the fire.

Before Marcine could look up, she was spooked by Daryl tossing three small strips of meat on the grill. She watched him sheath his knife and he grabbed his crossbow; the look he gave Marcine before disappearing into the woods made her tense up and chill.

It was the first time in a week that he has left her and Merle alone. Usually he was there or not far, watching her and daring him, it made one side of her wonder what would happen should she turn brother on brother. Would it happen? Would they agree to be rid of her completely? She'd be lost, alone and vulnerable.

Marcine groaned and pulled her knees up, tucking her head between them. Her head was spinning and she couldn't stand it, couldn't handle this much. Was this her breakdown? No, she had that a long time ago. Maybe, she didn't remember much these days, supposed it was that intense denial seeded in her from her mother and her sister, watching them, watching her sister live in such denial of her mother. It must have been contagious.

"Aw, sugar tits," she tensed at Merle's voice. "Why ya seem so blue?"

Marcine peered over at him, lowering her legs to wiggle just a little further from him. "Leave me alone, Merle," she griped, watching the squirrel meat shrink and darken.

He chuckled, unfazed by her attitude. "Don' gimme that," he flipped the meat. "I don't bite."

Well, that was both true and false. Either way, Marcine ignored him. She didn't want to ruin herself with Daryl by indulging Merle in her attention. To be honest, she didn't _want _to talk to Merle, not even from the beginning. He scared her, from his attitude to his physical appearance, Merle was an intimidating figure even in the most polite scenario.

"Hey, Dixon!"

Both Marcine and Merle looked up, Marcine curious and Merle agitated. Shane was approaching, flanked by T - Dog and Andrea, who looked equally as annoyed as Merle. They stopped a few feet away, Andrea eyeing Marcine in disapproval.

She'd rip her fucking eyes out.

Marcine snorted and took Merle's fork, plucking up a piece of squirrel meat.

"Whatcha need, deputy," Merle crooned.

"Need another man on a run into the city, you in," Shane looked like he would rather ask a Walker.

Merle didn't say anything for a moment and Marcine knew he was doing it to irk the deputy. He stirred the can of beans for a moment then shrugged, looking up at Shane with a blank expression, pupils dilated.

"Why not," he leered. "So long as sugar tits there tags along."

Andrea's hands clenched into fists rhythmically at her sides. "I oughta -"

"Enough," Shane barked, Merle snickered and took a grossly exaggerated bite of hot beans. "Don't cause shit, Merle."

Marcine snorted as they turned and left, but she tucked her head away between her knees when Merle tried to spark a conversation over their mutual disgust over Shane Walsh. She wouldn't talk to him, didn't feel like it and he had to know it. But Merle was a trouble seeker and she supposed either he liked fucking with her, Daryl or he just liked to screw with them both.

"Ah, c'mon girly," Merle leaned towards her.

Before he could speak again, she jumped to her feet, turned on her heel, and stalked off towards the quarry.

_Why couldn't he just leave her alone?_

She smiled, thankful to find there was not a single soul about. The water rippled gently with a breeze and she inhaled it, smelling air free of pollution and other things; the ups and downs of an apocalypse, she supposed. Marcine sighed and approached the edge of the water, toeing off her boots and then shrugging out of her pants, her shirt. In just her smalls, she dove into the water, enjoying the cool water wrapping around her arms and legs, her torso.

Thinking.

Marcine _hated _when she had time to think. Alone did that to her, but she liked being alone; it was a fucking struggle.

She inhaled air greedily as she broke through the surface. "I hate the apocalypse," she murmured.

* * *

><p>She walked back into camp around sundown, pruned up and out of breath from doing laps. She opted for no jeans on the walk up and her underwear were boy shorts so it didn't really matter. She shook her hair out as she approached her and Daryl's tent, jeans draped over her arm, and noticed Merle was absent.<p>

She furrowed her brow and peeked into his tent, but he was gone still. She stood straight and looked around, had they already left for the city? No, Andrea was sitting with her sister at their camp fire. Marcine pursed her lips and shook her head, ducking into her and Daryl's tent.

"Well, at least someone is here."

Daryl looked up from the extensive cleaning of his crossbow and made to snort but no noise came out. She rolled her eyes and scuttled into the corner of the tent, bending down to find a towel in her backpack.

She steeled when she felt hands wrap around her waist. It was her first encounter with Merle all over again, but this time Marcine went to punch him. But it was Daryl and she sagged in his hands, her cheeks alight like an open flame.

He pulled her closer and she held her hands close to her chest. "What uh...what're you doin?"

He didn't say anything, he just kissed her. She squeaked and pressed her hands against his chest for a moment then gave in, going slack in his arms. She could call it tender, if it weren't for the way he nipped at her bottom lip. She hesitantly opened her mouth to him and he dove in, making her feel a little dirty. Her hands glided up his arms, she loved his arms. She lived the way they looked and now, felt; muscles jumped beneath the surface of tanned and freckled skin.

"Whoa ho ho, finally. Darylina gettin' some."

Marcine and Daryl jumped apart, but he kept his hands on her, frustratingly tight. Merle was standing in the tent now, leant back and panting; there was blood on his shirt and scratches on his forearm. Marcine prickled, thinking him infected, but he just grinned and Daryl groaned.

"We gotta do this now," he griped, letting go of Marcine to grab his pistol and stick it in the back of his jeans.

Merle's squirrely eyes flickered between the two of them, resting on Daryl. "Think she can be trusted, lil brother?"

Then both eyes were on her, intense and primal. She was instantly afraid, but now she was curious. Because Daryl looked as afraid as she did a moment ago and he was close to throwing a fit.

"I can be trusted," she blurted out. "I...I can be trusted."

Daryl sighed, looking a little disappointed but then he shrugged and grabbed his crossbow. "Fine," he grabbed her arm as Merle slipped out of the tent. "But you say one thing, and you'll regret it."

Her warning to get out now.

"I'm up for anything," she promised.

He held her there for a moment, finally letting her go after she counted to seventy five. "You may think that now, but ya don' know what yet gonna see."

_**God, I hate how this ends, but its another filler. Action starts next chapter and we get into the first season. Please review!**_


	9. Monsters

Marcine was strangely calm as she watched Merle and Daryl pull the woman from the back of the Cadillac. They let her go and she hit the ground face first, a sob coming from her lips. Marcine looked over at Daryl where he was standing off in the middle of the thin road, eyes glazed over. They had driven to a subdivision, a few miles from camp, just outside the city, no one saying a word. Marcine had thoughts on what this could have been, this…this was not on her list of possible outcomes.

"Daryl…" Marcine reached out to touch his arm but retracted her hand, rubbing the wrist. "Daryl why didn't you tell me about this?" she looked back down at the woman on the ground.

The woman twisted and cried, begging. "Please…please you have to let me go…" she whispered, looking between the brothers.

"Merle why'd ya bring 'er along for this?" Daryl growled, stepping towards his brother.

Merle looked his younger brother up and down, his tongue hanging from the corner of his mouth. He smirked over at Marcine, arms swinging at his sides. "So girly…ya gonna help us with this or not?"

"With what?" Marcine stepped back when the woman reached for her with bound wrists.

Merle waved a hand down at the woman. "Help us get rid o' her."

Marcine looked over at Daryl and he looked at her. "Can' help ya make up ya mind. Do it or don't, don' matter."

"Yes it does," she stepped closer to Daryl, looking down at the woman. "Daryl I can't ignore this."

"So go tell everyone else," Daryl threw his hand at her, turning around he walked a few feet from her and put his hands on his hips. "I didn' wanna tell ya but…"

Merle took a step forward. "Ya can stay with us and help or ya can go back to th' group and play house wife, choose now."

They were making her choose in this situation? She looked between brothers, fear and indecision in her eyes. Who's to say if she chooses the group they won't kill her or give her the same treatment they had given this woman? But if she stayed would she have to do this with them like they were asking now? Marcine swallowed hard and looked back down at the woman. She was groaning into the concrete, her body covered in small and large cuts, streaked with mud and blood. She was naked and most of the blood was centered around the junction of her thighs so Marcine could guess what happened. But her only thought was on whom did that deed. Merle, she could see that. In the back of her head she was just worried that Daryl had done that.

She took in a deep breath and stepped towards Daryl, her fingertips brushing against his elbow. He looked over at her, his eyes still clouded. "I don't want to leave you…" she whispered.

His haze lightened but he snorted and walked around her. "Don't be so fuckin sappy."

Marcine sighed and walked back over to the girl, placing her hands on her hips. "So what do we do with her?" Marcine asked.

Merle walked over, pressing his boot against the girls' joint wrists. She sobbed but went unheard as Daryl stuffed his red rag in her mouth, hovering around Merle.

"Don' know yet…" Merle pressed down onto the woman's wrists. She screamed into the rag gag as Marcine heard bones crunch and snap beneath Merle's boot. Merle laughed and took a step back. "Take 'er in one of the houses."

Merle hefted the woman over his shoulder and started towards one of the houses nearby. Daryl and Marcine trailed behind him, both looking around rapidly; one out of nervousness, the other with simple curiosity. Marcine had never been inside such a beautiful place before, it was elegant and small. The house looked untouched, as though it had never been lived in, but Marcine could see a few suitcases by the couch in the living room. Daryl marched over to the windows and pulled the curtains shut, looking around before he pointed at the couch.

"That's fine, don' need ta drag this out," Daryl muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

Merle snickered and threw the woman on the couch, pulling out a large knife as he rested one knee between her and the couch. "Like em ta fight back," he sneered, cutting through the rope around her wrists. The young woman fought back the best she could, her hands sort of limp because of the broken wrists. Merle ripped the gag from her mouth, Marcine watching intently. "What's ya name sugar tits?"

The young woman whimpered, looking over at Marcine. "Please…please you can stop this…"

Marcine opened her mouth to speak but Merle took a rough hold on the girls chin and jerked her face back to look at him, his nose against hers. "What's ya name?" he growled.

She screamed when he took a hold of her left wrist and squeezed. "Shiloh! My name is Shiloh!"

Merle chuckled and pushed off from the couch, working on the buckle of his jeans. "Nice name, now ready ya self girl. Thanks ta my baby brother, I didn't get to nut with his girl and I'm jus' _dyin'_ ta get mine."

Shiloh's eyes widened and flickered over to Marcine who was huddled against Daryl's side, transfixed by this. Merle leaned back onto the couch, hovering above the woman as he held his tool in his hand. Marcine watched her face as it twisted into pain from him brutally thrusting himself into her. Merle groaned and his head lolled back, his hips rotating against hers. He grinned back at his brother and Daryl looked away, towards the kitchen behind him and Marcine. He touched her elbow and she nodded, following behind him as he walked towards the kitchen.

"Daryl…"

He smacked his hands flat against the granite island, glaring up at her through his brow. "Don' ask me why, aight?"

"But Daryl," she flinched at the sound of the woman sobbing in the other room. "I just want to know why. Don't you think I deserve that?"

He looked up at her then shook his head, leaning onto his elbows as he rubbed his face. "Started simple 'nough. Merle…he came home one night had this bitch in the back of th' truck, said he raped her, needed to get rid of her. Didn' wanna help at first, but I had to. He was ma brother…after that I liked it," their eyes met. "But I can tell ya, Marcine. I never raped a girl, not one of em."

"But you killed them…" she whispered.

He nodded. "Too many ta count."

Her brow furrowed but she couldn't find herself disgusted by any of this, couldn't see herself running away or even turning them in. Who the hell would she turn them in to? She couldn't bring herself to do that, not to them. As a matter of fact all she could think about was joining in on the fun. She wanted to witness it, become a part of it. Since her teen years she had wondered what it would be like to kill someone, of course that was her morbid curiosity she inherited from her mother.

"My mother…my mother had been tempted to try these things, always had the desire but those were only thoughts in her journals," Marcine rubbed the back of her hand. "I have to admit I've always had that curiosity in me but couldn't act on it. I bet I could now."

Daryl's eyes shot up to her. "Maybe we can help ya with that."

Her eyes sparked. This was wrong, thinking this way, acting this way, but it was the truth. Marcine wanted to know, wanted to feel it. It was dangerous, she knew, she had been told. She had witnessed it first hand, from a masked stranger that had let her live when she was eight. She was at school, it seemed like a normal day. Playing in the computer lab and stuff you know, then the alarms started going off and someone came into the lab. She was the only one to make it under her desk, but he found her, at the end. She watched a lot of her friends die and knew her momma would love to see this.

When he found her he started humming, completely in bliss with what he was doing and had bent down to her level. She had been shaking so bad, begging him not to kill her, let her live, and he did. But with parting words.

_Killing someone is easy to do, that's what makes it so dangerous_.

She would never forget those words, she never wanted to because they made her understand things strangely enough. She moved around the island, fingers trailing through the dust built up on the counter top. Daryl watched her, his body tense as she moved closer, eyes set on him. She reached up slowly, placing her hand against the left side of his neck before she pushed herself up the extra foot and met his lips with hers.

It was gentle, compared to the background noise.

Their lips moved against each others, Daryl moving as though he was new to it. Marcine reached her other hand up and placed it against the other side of his neck. Her eyes flickered open for a second, seeing his half lidded and on her. Marcine stopped, pulling back from him to look him in the eye.

"Daryl…I like being around you guys, even if you are the way you are and Merle is the way he is. It doesn't matter to me, you're the only people I've fit in with for years and I don't want to be out there on my own."

"Ya could stay with th' group."

Marcine shook her head and took a step back. "No, I couldn't. Not after what I did to Ed. Even if he was a slimy prick they hate me now."

"Lori doesn't," he looked up sideways. "She'll stick wit'cha no matter what."

"And Glenn and Amy, but that doesn't matter, I want to stay with you and Merle, even if I have to do what you do. Even if I have to kill a bunch of people."

"Why?"

Marcine sighed. "Daryl…can't you just be happy that someone wants to be with you?"

He shrugged and moved to the cabinets. "I like ta pick things apart."


	10. Build

_**Sorry for the pause, again, but I'm working to get back into a rythm with the Walking Dead; my mom bought season five so my inspiration is starting to flow back to me. We're starting to get towards the really M rated stuff so buckle up guys, the rating may change.**_

_**This is now posted to Archive of Our Own too so if you're interested, the more sexual and twisted themes are over there. Its hard to post over there on a phone though so its updates are more slow going than over here. Again, I'm steadily getting back into the flow over here so fingers crossed.**_

_**Antywho! Please review - yada, yada, yada.**_

* * *

><p>"Hear that?" Shane muttered to Glenn, looking up into the trees.<p>

Glenn looked around, placing the gas canister against the back wheel of the Jeep and picking up another. "Hear what?"

Shane shook his head and adjusted the bill of his Sheriff cap. "Sounded like…a scream."

Glen shrugged. "I didn't hear anything."

Sane looked around again, glaring at the Walkers stumbling towards them; they were too far away to be a bother but Shane was still paranoid. More Walkers had been showing up every day now, it was concerning to Shane. They must be running out of food in the city now and were spreading out, which was a fresh threat. Shane muttered a curse under his breath and picked up two of the jugs Glenn had just finished off, placing them in the back of the Jeep before he went around to the hood of the Jeep and started looking at the map. His brow furrowed and he looked around the Jeep to Glenn who was loading the last of the gas canisters into the back of the Jeep.

"Ain't there a subdivision up ahead," Shane asked.

Glenn looked over at him, dusting off his hands. He nodded after a moment. "Uh yeah, why?"

Shane waved him over and continued to look at the highlighted area. It wasn't large and it was rather far off the main road, which was perfect. If he had known about it before they had set up at the quarry, I would have been a nice place to hold up, set up camp.

"Don't think it would have been raided too bad, it seems like it was really out in the middle of nowhere."

Glenn looked over the map. "Yeah, they weren't done clearing out the woods around it to build more houses. Weird if you ask me. Maybe we should go and check it out."

Shane thought for a moment and his fists balled up against the map. "Wait a minute…where did those Dixons and that girl go?"

Glenn looked up, his brow dripping sweat. "Marcine said they were goin to a place nearby, about twenty minutes away. Think they could have been headed there?"

Shane nodded. "There's nowhere else to go unless they go into the city."

Glenn sighed and walked around to the passenger's seat. "Fine, let's go over there."

Shane grumbled as he folded up the map and shoved it into his back pocket. Those Dixons were bad for that girl. He thought she had been normal at first, but as soon as she went near them he knew she would change. And he was right, she had changed; she was becoming one of them, slowly but surely. Shane knew what they were all about, he knew they had killed before, humans and not Walkers. He had seen them on wanted posters up north, where they were supposed to be from. They had kidnapped and raped a few women, but it wasn't set in stone. You don't just kill women and then throw a few men in there, unless they get in the way of you killing the women. But those men had been kidnapped and tortured. Maybe Shane was wrong and they were just the normal rednecks, drunk and high all the time while also being extremely aggressive.

Shane rubbed his face, one hand on the steering wheel. He was thinking too hard, as usual. "Ain't that it up ahead?"

Glenn nodded. "Yep."

Silence again. The road was smooth, fresh, to the subdivision and it was a relief to Shane. All of the roads near the quarry were rough and cracked, unlevel, it was hell on the vehicles. They parked in the woods a few feet from the blood streaked brick sign declaring the name of the subdivision. Shane and Glenn stepped out from the Jeep, Shane holding onto his pistol tightly, Glenn holding onto his bat as he looked around. They started in, eyes darting around in case there were any Walkers around or, Hell, people. There were a few bodies lying across the ground, some recently killed Walkers. Shane pressed a hand against Glenn's arm, making him jump and stop. Shane pointed to the dead Walkers and Glenn looked around again.

"Hey there's Daryl's truck," Glenn whispered, pointing at the blue pickup parked between two houses.

Shane opened his mouth to speak but a scream cut him off. They looked to their lefts and saw Marcine running from a house at the end of the street, hair flying and fear evident on her face. She hit the concrete face first and screamed when a tall man grabbed a hold of her leg, trying to pull her back inside. He was dark skinned, but not African American or Mexican, and he wore an old jumpsuit, thick and imposing at just a glance. Glenn ran forward but one look from the man made him scuttle back in fear. Shane rolled his eyes and took one step forward, raising the gun and firing. It skimmed across his shoulder and he laughed, giving one jerk and pulling Marcine closer to him. An arrow pierced his skull and he gurgled, falling forward onto Marcine and threatening to suffocate her. She screamed for the third time and crawled out from under him, running towards Daryl and holding onto his arm.

"The fuck just happened here," Shane shoved his gun in the waistband of his jeans and took a few steps forward.

Daryl shrugged Marcine off and she nodded, jogging back to the house she ran out of. He pressed the toe of his boot against the man's skull and jerked his arrow out. "Walked in on the son of a bitch rapin' some girl," Daryl shook his head, kicking the man in the skull. It gave a crunch and he smirked, looking up at Shane and Glenn. "tried to get Marcine."

"Where is your brother?"

Daryl raised a brow. "Back there wrappin the girl up, they should be out soon."

Shane nodded slowly. "Alright, they need help?"

Daryl moved to stand in front of Shane as he took a step towards the house. They looked each other up and down, both challenging each other. "They don't need your help."

Shane stared at him, eyes flickering towards the house in front of him. He saw Marcine's small figure race across the doorway and his eye twitched. He didn't trust what was going on in there, he didn't like it but he couldn't just jump into a fight with both Dixon brothers. He knew Glenn would be no help and Marcine could probably attack him. She may have been small but that was her advantage; she was fast, nimble and dare he say flexible. She could get the upper hand on him easily with just the right twists. Hell, Shane was too proud to admit a few emaciated women had gotten the upper hand on him on more than one occasion.

Shane took a breath and stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fine, we'll just wait here."

"Gonna be waitin awhile," Daryl muttered.

Glenn stepped forward, eyes wide. "M-Maybe we should go back Shane, they can handle this."

Shane stared at Daryl, eyes narrowed and crossed over his shoulder. He sighed, turning around towards the Jeep. "Fuck it…come on Glenn."

* * *

><p>Daryl stomped back into the house, breathing deeply and loudly in anger. He stopped in the doorway to the living room, watching Marcine hold the woman's legs down as she tried to kick at Merle, who was still ruttin into her like a beast.<p>

"Almost got caught," Daryl growled, looking out the window.

"Ah-calm down lil broth-nngh-er. Lucky that spook came out of hidin when he did," Merle panted.

Daryl turned from the window when he saw the Jeep disappear. "He woulda saw this we'd all be dead," Daryl waved at what was going on in front of him.

Marcine looked around Merle at him, brow creased in confusion as she let the woman's ankles go. She moved around Merle and crouched beside the woman's bobbing head, holding it still long enough to press her ear to her mouth. "She's dead."

Merle gave two long, full thrusts before he groaned, leering at Marcine. Daryl growled and grabbed her by her arm, pulling her behind him. " 'm done, let's bury the bitch and go."

Daryl shook his head as Merle pulled away from the woman, dick dripping blood. "Leave 'er, she'll change soon enough. Get your shit clean and then we'll go."

Merle rolled his eyes and grabbed a bottle of water that had all but materialized from the coffee table. Marcine looked away, threading her fingers through Daryl's. He kept his eyes out the window, looking for any new threat but squeezed her hand in his. Oddly enough he didn't want to lose her, didn't want her to leave him. He had only had his brother for so long he forgot what it was like to have other company, let alone a woman's.

He hadn't lied to her when he said he never raped the women they killed. He was the one that disposed of them, Merle did all the real dirty work. Rapin and torturing em…that was his thing. The men they had killed were testing their limits. Daryl was surprised they hadn't been caught yet, when the outbreak started Daryl knew they could probably flash it but didn't want to risk anything. What he would be risking he was clueless about but better safe than sorry. That pig, Shane, was on to them. He knew something, he was getting bold, but knew he was outnumbered alone with Daryl and Merle. Glenn wouldn't have helped, for Marcine's sake. Daryl had seen the little Asian boy following her around camp when she had first gotten there. It was pathetic and Daryl knew he would never stoop to that level of worthlessness. He was pretty worthless now but following a woman around like a puppy? Hell no.

"Daryl…Daryl come on."

Daryl looked over at Marcine as she tugged on his hand, pulling him towards the door. He nodded and let her pull him along, making sure no one was watching them as they left the house. Just on the threshold of the door he heard the woman reanimating, turning into one of those things. No evidence really. He was glad that spook had come out from hiding. He had been hiding in the kitchen pantry, chased Marcine around until she went outside. Daryl had to admit he was more than pissed when he saw that asshole standing over Marcine.

Merle sat in the driver's seat while Daryl sat in the passenger seat. There was room for Marcine to sit between them, like they had on the ride up, but she sat in Daryl's lap. As they drove Daryl caught her eye and could feel the heat from her sex against his. He swallowed hard and moved a hand up, settling the fingers right above her junction. Killing turned her on, just like it did to Daryl. It took him two years to get aroused by it, not like he was trying or anything, but up until then he had just done it because it was fun. When Merle showed up with tha hooker the first time Daryl was more than scared, of course he didn't show it. He didn't want to go to jail, he was an outdoors man. Not just because he loved to hunt or anything like that, but because he hated being locked in a box. He hated being stuck in a building for too long, school was hell for him.

"No heavy pettin les I get some," Merle's voice broke Daryl and Marcine's stares.

Marcine glared at Merle and Daryl chuckled, leaving his hand where it was. He stretched up, whispering against her ear. "Don' wanna share anyway…" he took her lobe between his teeth and pulled a little before settling back into his seat.

He smirked at the way she was frozen, eyes a little wide from his sudden actions. Daryl had been serious when he told Merle that she was his. He had claimed her the moment he saw her stumbling up that road, covered in blood. He would have preferred a virgin but she would do just find. And he wouldn't dispose of her like all the others. She was going to be his first rape, like it was a planned party or a business deal. At one point in his life Daryl would be absolutely disgusted with those thoughts but after all these years he learned to embrace it. Seeing what Marcine was capable of…she was a partner now. Merle liked her and wanted to keep her, which was a rare thing so Daryl knew she could get better.

* * *

><p>Marcine's eyes snapped open to the edge of the tent, her face blank and reserved for nothing. She blinked and stretched, her bottom brushing heartily against Daryl's crotch. She heard him groan and an arm snaked around her middle, tightly pulling her against his chest. His breath was heavy in her ear and it sent a thrill through her, making her shiver and moan. His teeth bit into her neck, making her twitch and rotate. She held onto his hand tightly, as if she were afraid that she would float away if she let go.<p>

"Feisty," he murmured against her ear.

He let her go and she rolled over, looking up at him with hooded eyes. "Don't start something you can't finish," she breathed, closing her eyes as his fingers dipped below the waistband of her sleeping shorts.

He stroked at her, earning a small gasp from her lips. "Who said I can't finish it?"

Shr glared at him. "The people waiting outside our tent."

Daryl growled and looked to the zipped flap. He could see a few faint shadows moving around and noticed the noise of their voices buzzing in a whisper. Marcine smirked and pulled his hand from her shorts, her tongue snaking out to lick at her own wetness on his fingers. He looked back to her slowly and Marcine slid her right leg between his and felt him stiff in his boxers. She grinned and pulled away from him, pushing herself up. Marcine hovered above him for a moment, hooking her thumbs into the waist band of her shorts.

She raised a brow, looking through the curtain of her hair as she smirked at him. "Want em off," he nodded and she chuckled, moving over to the tent flap.

She heard Daryl groan as she stepped outside of the tent, arms folding over her chest as she saw Shane, Lori, Glenn and Dale hovering around the middle of the bare ground that separated their camps. It was like some cheesy turf war between the groups. Marcine snorted and took a few steps forward, hearing Daryl putting on his jeans in the tent but she wasn't waiting for him. Merle was beside her soon enough, that was all she needed.

"What do you guys want," she asked slowly.

Shane took the step forward, shrugging Lori's hand off of his arm. "Ya lucky we put it to a vote about you all staying here," he growled out.

Marcine looked over at Daryl as he came up, buttoning his shirt. She looked back over at Shane, taking a step back to be slightly behind Daryl. "And? What's the count?"

Shane did not look happy one bit. He looked down right angry and Marcine could practically see the steam coming from his ears. She giggled a little, catching a few looks but she placed a hand over her mouth to keep herself quiet. She guessed she was losing her mind now.

Lori stepped forward, a worn but happy smile on her pretty face, and clapped her hands together. "You guys get to stay!"

Marcine's eyes and smile grew and she launched herself at Lori with a squeal. "We get to stay! We get to fucking stay," she squealed, clinging to Lori.

Lori laughed a little. "Of course!"

Marcine pulled herself off of Lori, smiling over at Daryl and Merle, Merle the only one smiling at her. "We don't have to leave…" she breathed.

She couldn't express how happy she was. True all she wanted was to stay with Daryl and Merle, but she would have missed Lori and Glenn and Amy and the other group members, minus Shane. But he was the one that decided whether or not she and the boys get to stay, who comes and goes around here, so she had to be grateful. Marcine tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear and stepped back towards Daryl, turning to face Shane.

"Honestly I thought there would be a big debate," Marine smirked a little.

Shane glared and shifted his weight to his left hip. He didn't understand how…gay it was. He had nice hips though. "I tried that…Lori and Dale wouldn't let me."

Marcine looked over at Dale, jerking her chin at him. "I didn't think you would op for me to stay."

Dale smiled at her a little, taking a step closer towards her. He placed a hand on her shoulder and she looked at it before back to him. "What you did wasn't exactly something I approve of but seeing Carol so happy…she actually played with her daughter like a mother is supposed to instead of going and retrieving wood while Ed sits on his…well you know what I mean."

Marcine smiled a little, looking to Shane again. "I know you don't like me or the guys Shane…" Marcine bowed her head a little. "but thank you for letting us stay."

Shane looked her over, obviously caught off guard by the kindness coming from Marcine. It was genuine today. She was glad they were getting to stay, grateful he was letting them. Even if Shane was an arrogant asshole, he knew how to protect the group, by letting Marcine and the Dixons to stay with them. They could keep the camp safe better than he could, he had to know that.

Shane rubbed the back of his neck, looking embarrassed for being so rude, and then cleared his throat, holding out a hand. "Sorry about how I acted…Carol told us some of what he did to her and her little girl…"

Marcine stared at the hand for a moment then smiled and took it, giving it a tender shake. "It's fine Shane, really. You letting us stay makes up for it."

They let each others hands go and Shane gave each of them a nod, walking back to the other side of camp. Marcine ignored the mutters coming from him and turned around to the Dixons, a huge grin on her face. Daryl rolled his eyes and turned back towards their tent, ducking in while Merle chuckled and crossed his arms.

"Boy ain't grateful for shit."

Marcine nodded, turning back to Dale and Lori. "But I am, thank you guys, again."

Lori shook her head and waved her words off, taking a step forward to place her hands on the young woman's shoulders. "Marcine I'm just glad to have you still here. You're a great kid, I wouldn't have felt right sending you out there alone."

"She wouldn't 'a been alone," Merle growled behind Marcine.

She held up a hand, signaling for him to shut his mouth. She took a breath and smiled. "He's right Lori, I wouldn't be alone, but I'm glad to be staying. I like the camp, I like the kids and I like some of the people. I didn't want to leave…but Lori if any of you said only I could stay and they had to leave," Marcine looked over her shoulder at Merle, then looking over at Daryl as he came from the tent. "I'd have to go with them."

She looked back to Lori and saw that concern in there, in her eyes, again. She gave a small laugh and wiped at her nose, dusting her hands on the back of her jeans. "Of course…got me all upset and stuff. Why do you have to be so dramatic?"

Marcine smiled. "I couldn't help myself, seemed like the right time to bust out some acting skills. So what did ya think?"

Lori laughed again. "Fantastic, grade A stuff."

Marcine chuckled a little and then shrugged her shoulders for no reason. "Um, I gotta go bathe, anyone down at the quarry?"

"Don' worry bout that, taken ya huntin anyway."

Marcine and Lori looked over at Daryl, who was shrugging his crossbow onto his back. He was taking her hunting? That was all fine and dandy, but what concerned Marcine most is what they would be hunting exactly. Truth be told she was anxious to hunt her first person, male or female. She would ask him when they left, when they got far away from the group and everything. Didn't need anyone hearing in on _that_. Yesterday was a close enough call with Shane and Glenn. Marcine could never describe how terrifying it was to have that man chase her out of that house. She had been helping Daryl look for food in the cabinets, got close to the pantry and he had busted out. Merle had been no help, laughing as the man chased her around the living room before she had gone outside. It was a blessing in a way. If Shane and Glenn had seen what had been going on in that house it would have been over for them. She would bet Shane would have put them down like Walkers for it.

Marcine gestured at him and looked back over at Lori. "Ok…so I guess I'm going hunting," she looked over her shoulder at Merle, who was scoping out her ass rather bluntly. "You goin to?"

He shook his head. "Nah, goin on a run inta th' city tomorra. You two have fuun," he drew the last word out with a gross leer on his face and Marcine rolled her eyes, stalking over to Daryl.

She gave a slight wave to Lori and Dale, sticking close to Daryl as they stomped through the brush. "What are we huntin?"

Daryl looked up at her for a second before he snorted and looked back into the forest in front of them. "Deer, we runnin outta meat."

Marcine lifted her legs higher to get over the fallen, rotting tree in front of them. "I don't know why you supply them with food, their all assholes to you. Never seen such an ungrateful bunch of people."

Daryl grunted and turned his eyes to the ground. "Can say I uh…got a soft spot fer kids."

Marcine smirked at him. "Oh so the big bad," she noticed his smile and smirked wider. "sexy, feral," his eyes flickered to hers. "Daryl Dixon has a soft spot for the kiddies? That's hot."

He barked a laugh. "Sure it is."

"Real - is that a deer?"

Daryl grabbed a hold of the top of her head and pushed her down to her knees, making her want to cry when pain shot through her back. He raised himself up a little, slowly pulling the crossbow from his back, jaw slightly slack. He pressed the nose of the crossbow against the ground and tucked his boot into the back of it, an arrow in his mouth as he kept his eyes on the deer through the brush. Marcine had to bite her tongue extra hard when he slipped in the soft grass under his knee, causing him fall against the brush and effectively cause the deer to charge away from them. He cursed and kicked, throwing a little mini tantrum that was pretty amusing to Marcine. She sat back against the tree behind her, a smug look on her face as she watched his frustration leek out.

He noticed her look of smug satisfaction and glared at her, dropping the arrow in his hand. Marcine watched it stab into the ground, sticking straight up into the air. She looked up at Daryl as he crouched in front of her, eyes dark and calculating; he reached up and took a hold of her chin, jerking her forward. Marcine flinched on impact, knowing her lips would be bruised, but she kissed back, tongue snaking out to lick at his bottom lip. It was salty and it actually tasted musky, but she liked that. It was what a real man should taste like. He smelt like a real man should, almost acted like a real man could. Sure he could get more in touch with his feelings but honestly Marcine believed that was what attracted her to him, that whole 'I-could-care-less-about-feelings' thing he had going on.

He moved his hand from her chin to her left knee, his other hand on her right knee and he spread her legs. She complied, parting from him for a moment to catch her breath but he just moved his lips down to her jaw and then her neck, suckling and biting every now and again as he stroked her through her shorts. She gave out a small moan and reached one hand up to hang across the back of his neck.

"Coulda…let me change before we left," she panted, whimpering when he hooked a finger against her.

He smirked against her skin. "Less clothin the better right?"

She whimpered again as he slid a finger across her lips, sending shivers through her body. She bucked against his hand, getting a good grip on the neck of his shirt. "Please…not here."

He paused, pulling back to look at her. "Seriously?"

She nodded, heat rising to her cheeks. "I…I want to be somewhere I can feel safe. I don't feel safe out here, so in the open."

"Ya safe as long as your with me," he grumbled.

Marcine looked down. "I know that Daryl…just wait until I get somewhere I do feel safe. I'll let you do anything to me."

He looked over at her, eyes narrowed in thought and he shook his head, standing and moving to grab his arrow from crossbow from the ground. "Let's go 'fore that deer gets too far."

Marcine nodded to his back and pushed herself up, following behind him closely. She swallowed hard and pulled the tie from her wrist, pulling up her hair into a high bun. Her heart was hammering in her chest and her knees were weak from his 'attack'. She wanted more, craved more, wished they could have pressed it but she wasn't ready for it out here. She couldn't wait for it, and she would stick true to her word of letting him do anything to her. She wanted to let him do anything to her. She had never wanted anything so much in such a wrong way.

And that scared her.


	11. Breaking

_**I know I say this alot - but sorry! I didn't forget about this story, I'm just trying to cope with my Supernatural addiction right now. If you like the show and fan fiction, I have an account on AO3 for mt Supernatural stories. Same kin name, so its not that hard too find but the shit over there is gnarly so be careful of triggers.**_

* * *

><p>"I can't believe she would <em>want<em> to stay with them," Lori muttered, leaning back to rinse the shampoo from her hair.

Carol looked over at Lori and shrugged, moving her attention to the top of the cliffs as she scrubbed at her boney arms. The bruises were healing, a few a faint yellow around her bicep, but they were nothing compared to previous damage. She would be. . .just fine now.

"I can: she's a pet. Nothing but a pet and she listens to her masters. That's the way it is for a submissive woman."

Carol knew all too well about what she was talking about. She had been a submissive woman for so long, she could point one out from miles away after her own experiences. She had seen glimpses of it in Marcine, but knew the young woman wasn't going to put up with any flack outside of the Dixon's. She was a time bomb, though, with so many people around, rubbing the two sides of her raw. Would she blow up on one of them next? Would she harm someone who only slipped up at the wrong time? A guessing game of sorts.

Lori grumbled to herself and looked around before she hurried from the water and grabbed the conditioner. She all but dove back into the water beside Carol, making the older woman chuckle and look around again. Bathing in such an open space was so _unsettling_ to Carol. Lori laughed when she came up from the water, shaking her hair. Carol closed her eyes against the droplets, a swelling in her chest at how care free she was able to be.

"_Ugh_ this water feels so good," Lori sighed out, running conditioner through her long hair.

Carol gave a half smile. "I wish I still had all of my hair."

"Where'd it go?"

Carol shrugged. "Ed didn't like it, made me get it all cut off," he had said men would look at her if she had long hair, and then she'd be the one punished.

Lori glared at nothing. "That's one thing I like about Marcine, she didn't put up with his crap."

Carol smiled a little. "Yes, I'm glad it's over. That may have been a horrible thing but I couldn't be happier. I know Sophia is already."

Lori nodded. "The kids love Marcine."

"Kids are excellent judges of character. They love Daryl too, even if he pays them no mind."

Lori chuckled and tossed the now empty bottle of conditioner onto the land. "They're like animals in a way. The less you care, the more they love you."

Carol's head snapped up as she heard her and Lori's name called. "Clothes," she squeaked.

Shs and Lori hurried back to the bank and jerked on their clothes, both of them getting their jeans buttoned just as Shane and Glenn came jogging from the path. Shane came to a stop in front of Lori, looking concerned and angry. Lori looked over at Carol, who was blushing at the near catching and then sighed, returning her attention to Shane.

"What is it," she crossed her arms tightly over her chest.

"We need you guys back up there, need to discuss who goes on a run."

Lori arched an eyebrow. "And why do we need to be up there? Expect one of us to go?"

Shane sighed. "Just need you to clue in who you may need or not need - come on, Lori."

Lori sighed and groaned. "Fine, fine," she jerked her chin at Carol. "Come on. . ."

* * *

><p>"I never understood hunting. . ." Marcine muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.<p>

Daryl snorted across the fire, pulling apart the thick piece of meat in his hand. "_Seriously_?"

Marcine ran a hand through her hair. "I mean, I understand it and everything. Food and survival, all of that delicious shit. But what I _don't_ get is how it's fun to some people."

"Ain't fun ta me," Daryl muttered, looking over the fire at her. "Like ya said, huntin is fer survival," he visibly stopped himself from saying more, which almost made Marcine grin.

Marcine couldn't help but watch the reflection of the fire dance in his eyes, feeling small but special with his words. The way he spoke, so low, meant he was going to give away a piece of himself to her. She was always right in that sense, always knew when those secrets were coming out. She leaned forward a little, mouth quirking in the left corner.

"Well what is it to you?"

He looked down for a moment and took in a deep breath, pulling his left knee under him and propping his elbow up on his right knee. He rubbed his face slightly; Marcine could see him shaking from where she sat. He didn't want to say anything. Emotions weren't his thing.

"Huntin been my escape, from family. Merle and Pa, _assholes_. Ma was better but she went crazy after awhile. . ."

Marcine swallowed, nodding in understand. "My mother never really paid any attention to me, she was always there for my sister," she waved a hand. "They were the proper ones, the ones that wanted to be high class and all that jazz. I didn't care for it, I mean _sure_ it would have been nice to be high class but really I just didn't want to do the work."

"Why wouldn't ya?"

Marcine shrugged and looked down. "Just lazy I guess. I've never done anything in my life worth doing until after the apocalypse. And now I'm sitting here with a serial killer and enjoying myself. Boy, I would love to see my mothers face if she knew about all of this."

"She dead?"

Marcine shrugged and looked up. He was staring into the fire, chewing slowly on a piece of meat hanging from his mouth. "When everything went down, I was at work in the hospital. I tried to get to the house but the roads were closed off. I had to leave the city, when I managed to get back in there were too many Walkers and I had to head back out."

His eyes flickered across her then he pushed himself up enough to get something from his left front pocket. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and flipped the carton open, pinching the filter of one between his teeth and tugged it out. He offered the pack to Marcine and she crawled on her hands and knees around the fire, taking the pack as she settled beside him. She used his cigarette to light hers and took a thick drag.

"How'd ya get so skinny," he asked, running his finger along the curve of a protruding rib.

She swatted his hand away and took a drag from the cigarette, blowing the smoke out of her nose; it'd been years since she smokes. "I uh. . .I got into a really bad depression before the apocalypse. I starved myself for a long time, punishment I guess."

"For what?"

Marcine looked down at the fire, swallowing hard, and flicked the ashes from the end of her cigarette. "I had a miscarriage. I don't know what it was that caused it and it killed me. I couldn't do anything, I didn't leave my house for a week. Didn't eat, didn't sleep. I just sat in the bathroom and stared at the wall. It's a wonder I didn't die in there. . ."

It wasn't like it was a love child or anything, she hadn't really wanted it in the first place. A one night stand, but it was supposed to be her turn around in life - it was the reason she quit smoking.

He didn't touch her, didn't comfort her. He was silent beside her, and she didn't want that. She wanted him to hold her, say something to ease her guilt but nothing happened. Of course it didn't, what she wanted and what he could give were far apart. He wasn't good with emotions, and that was all she wanted from him. She put out the cigarette in the dirt and pushed herself up from the ground. She started walking out into the dark of the woods but a hand grabbed onto her elbow and whipped her around.

"Th' fuck you think yer goin," he growled.

It was too dark where they were to see his face, it made her uneasy. She tried to jerk her arm out of his grasp but he wouldn't let go. "Let me go Daryl, now."

He jerked her closer. "You don't tell me what ta do."

"Let me go Daryl!"

He twisted her around, scrunching her hand up behind her back. His breathing was heavy in her ear as his lips brushed against it. "Ya don't tell me what ta do," he growled out again.

She grit her teeth from the pain and her knees wobbled, making her slump down to the ground. He followed behind her, pressing his chest against her back. "I thought you said I was safe with you,"

"Never said you were safe from me," he growled out, pushing her down.

She whimpered, dirt and debris being inhaled through her nose. She pressed her hands flat against the ground but he pressed his own hand against her back, keeping her down. Her heart beat picked up its pace and her eyes flew open, searching around wildly for help. She knew what this was, she knew what he was doing. His other hand was tugging at her shorts, and they came away easily. They landed in the dirt by her head and she whimpered again, trying again to sit up but he pressed against her harder.

"You're just like your brother," she ground out, nose twisting at an odd angle.

And just like that he froze against her back, his fingers tighten in her shirt and she squeezed her eyes shut again. He was like Merle right now, he was an animal. He was trying to make her do something she didn't want to do, she thought he was different. He told her he was different, and he was wrong, she was wrong. _Dead fucking wrong._

"Fuck," she heard him spit out.

His hand came off of her back but she stayed where she was, shaking against the ground. She watched his hand come up and grab her shorts, forcing them back onto her roughly. He pulled her up roughly with a grip on her elbow and turned her around to face him. She stared at him with fearful eyes but a placid face, hands curled and shaking against her chest as he dug his fingers into her elbows. His eyes flashed around her face, looking for something but apparently not finding it. He grumbled and rubbed his face, one hand still holding her.

"Daryl it's fine. . ." she whispered, voice scratchy. "You're not like your brother because you stopped."

"Ya wanna stay with us, _both_ of us."

She nodded. "Yes, I just don't want to be the one begging for you to stop. If it's anyone else. . .well, they don't matter."

He stared at her for a moment, brow creased in frustration before he leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. She closed her eyes slowly, waiting for him to close his, and ran her tongue along his bottom lip, wrapping her free arm around the back of his neck to draw him in more. This she could handle, this was simple. It was kissing, it was a simple, hungry kiss that Marcine would rather take further but only with her own pace. If he forced her into it she didn't know what to do. He pulled away from her abruptly, placing a hand over her mouth and forcing her back to the ground. He kicked his boot back, dousing the fire in dirt, putting it out. Marcine struggled for a moment, her heels digging into the dirt but slipping. She had flashes already, of what he could and would do to her. But he just looked over her head, lips pressed against her forehead as he hissed lowly at her. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes, calming her body to sit still under his bulk.

She listened carefully, could hear the bushes moving, but it wasn't the stumbling of Walkers, and she didn't hear any moans. She heard some muttering and a lot of steps, like more than one person. The mutters were deep toned so it was a man, maybe a group of men, maybe only two of them.

"Swear I saw something over here," the deep voice picked up.

Marcine heard them stop and another voice spoke up, it sounded like a young man, like a teenager. "Guess your eye sights turnin to shit old man."

"Watch your mouth boy or I'll string you up from one of these trees."

"Whatever, if there's nothing here let's just go."

"I wanna go look over there though, let's go and then we'll leave."

Daryl muttered too low to hear and he jumped up, grabbing a hold of his crossbow and Marcine scrambled to her feet, trailing close behind him through the bushes.

"Hear that," the young voice asked.

Marcine squeaked as she tripped, falling flat on her face. She whimpered and tried to push herself up but it didn't work and she just groaned into the dirt. She looked up, looking for Daryl but she didn't see him and her heart started beating loudly in her ears. She looked over her shoulder, hearing the two men getting closer. She started to drag herself away, towards the thick bramble just out of reach. She could handle thorns digging into her skin, what she couldn't handle was two men she didn't know.

"Hey, look at _this_."

Marcine jumped and looked over her shoulder, an unwarranted tear slipping down her dusty cheek. There was a man, just like Merle but with a large beer gut grinning down at her. A young man - a teenager obviously - came up behind him and stared down at her through the faint glow of his phone's light. He looked between her and the man beside him with wide, hazy eyes, finally moving back a little.

"Think she needs our help son," the older man murmured, reaching down for her ankle.

Marcine tried jerking her leg away but it was no use, he pulled her towards him with ease. "Let me go fucker," she growled, trying to kick at him but she came just short of his chin.

He laughed and turned around, dragging her back through the bushes. The teenager hesitated but followed at her head while she cursed and kicked, digging her nails into the ground. She felt a nail rip off but she didn't care, she was still trying to get away, somehow keeping her cool and not freaking out; she was angry, _pissed_ beyond belief. But she knew Daryl would be back for her, and that made her fight even harder. She didn't want to depend on him, she didn't want him to think he had to save her all of the time.

"What you waitin for boy? Come help me," the older man grunted, trying to catch her swinging leg but it was no use.

The teenager hesitated at their sides, looking terrified, like he had never seen this man this way. Marcine smirked over at him when she saw the shadow moving behind him and threw her head back, laughing like a maniac. Karma was a motherfucker, that should be Daryl's nickname. **Karma**.

"The fuck is wrong with this bitch," the older man looked down at her with a creased brow.

Marcine laughed again, feeling blood spray across her face as Daryl dug the knife into the teenager's skull. Daryl pushed the young man's body forward and he landed atop of Marcine, who grunted at the weight and felt her leg drop. The older man stared at Daryl with a slack jaw and wide eyes, not believing what he was seeing. He swallowed thickly and took a step back, looking between Marcine and Daryl frantically. Marcine pushed the young man's body off of her and dusted her hands, holding one out to Daryl so he could jerk her up onto her feet.

"Ya ok," he asked, not looked away from the older man.

Marcine nodded and folded her arms over her chest. "Yeah I'm fine, what do we do about him," she jerked her chin at the man in front of them.

He didn't run, which was stupid, but he seemed frozen - like someone pressed pause on him. Only his eyes moved, flashing between the two of them and then the tree line, which wasn't that far away. He could make a break for it and neither one of them would follow. Well, Marcine knew she wouldn't, but she thought Daryl might. The man swallowed and took a step back, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. He was a snake ready to strike, but Marcine was unsure of which way he would go. Flee or attack, considering he was outnumbered with no weapons on him he would probably run.

And that's what he did.

"Damn he's fast," Marcine observed, hearing his rustling growing further by the second.

Daryl nodded. "Come on, we wasted enough time."


	12. Cauterized

She'd been scared of Daryl, sure, plenty of times in just a short period. Had good reason and she knew, Daryl Dixon was dangerous, just like his brother but yet so different and she didn't really comprehend just how different. But she was slowly starting to get the picture.

They'd gotten back to camp nearly an hour ago, Daryl spitting venom because they had lost the deer he was tracking. Of course, Marcine didn't really care about the deer when she realized that there had been a Walker gnawing on it.

Right now. . .she'd rather cuddle with the Walker.

"Daryl calm down," Marcine tried, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder.

The hunter whipped around, the back of his hand connecting with her cheek in a sharp crack. Marcine whipped around to the ground, holding the throbbing spot and stared up at him through her hair. He stood above her, his chest heaving and rolling before he growled and turned around, walking back towards their tents. Lori jogged over to Marcine and wrapped her arms around the young woman but she wiggled out of the spindly arms.

Sure, the struggle to her feet was a bit embarrassing but she managed, hands clenched at her sides as she stared at _Rick_. He was panting, blood and dirt stained shirt stretching over his chest. He looked downright terrified of the tiny woman and he should be, if she could she would kill him.

"We're going back for him," he tried, slowly.

Marcine growled, eyes darting around the expectant faces surrounding them before she focused on Rick again. "Did you ever think _maybe_ he had people here waiting for him? Did you ever think that maybe, just _maybe_, there were people that needed him," her lower lip was starting to tremble.

He stared at her for a moment then looked down, shaking his head. Marcine wanted to scream, kick or attack, just do something, anything, but she _couldn't_. Not without the rest of the group losing their fucking minds and _attacking_ her; the thought alone was stupid and she knew it.

Marcine ran a trembling hand through her hair and breathed in deeply through her nose, trying to calm her thrumming heart. She had to think rationally right now, she had to for Daryl. He wasn't in his right state of mind, never really was, but after the news. . .Hell he was even more unstable than before.

Marcine looked up at Rick, who was just staring at her - like he was begging her to understand his perspective. But she wouldn't. She turned around on her heel, eyes sweeping around the people staring at her, and started back towards their tent. Rick swallowed thickly and looked over at his wife, feeling his heart inflate even after everything. He'd been to Hell and back to find Lori, but she almost looked _disappointed _at him.

"What is. . ." He trailed off.

Lori shook her head and steered him back in the direction tent, catching Shane's eyes for a moment. "Daryl and Merle found her somewhere down the road, when she got here she was nothing but skin and bones," Lori paused, listening to the rustle of the wind around the. "She went straight to them two and asked them to help her learn to survive and they were teaching her," Lori ducked into the tent as Rick held open the flap. She sat on her 'bed' and Rick sat beside her, threading his fingers with hers and resting their hands on his thigh. "They. . .they tell her what to do and she does it. . .she even killed someone at their call."

Lori could remember _that_ night all too well. She was glad for it in a way, Ed was a pig and he deserved to be punished; it was still disturbing remembering the look on Marcine's face. Carol and Sophia were happier after it and Lori was happy that she didn't have to worry about eyes on her when she bent over to do something.

She swallowed hard and rubbed her forehead. "And you saw the way he treated her and how she still defended him, went after him to I guess _comfort_ him," she looked over at Rick. "I'm afraid he's going to hurt her if he already hasn't, more than he has by slapping her like he did. I don't want her to get hurt, I like that girl."

Rick raised her knuckles up to press his dusty lips against them. "I can tell, and I wish I could help her. But I think the only thing I can do is take her into the city to get Merle back. He's safe as can be on that roof. Nothing can get to him."

"I don't want her in the city," Lori said sternly, pulling her hand away from her husband's hand.

Rick chuckled a little, feeling his chest ache as he took in a breathe. "Listen, she needs as much closure as Daryl and getting Merle back will calm everyone down."

"Or they'll leave the group," Lori tossed out there.

Rick sighed and stood. "Yeah, there's that," _don't really know if that's a _bad _thing. . ._ "but there's also the chance that they will stay with the group. Just let me do this, let _us_ do this."

Lori looked up at him with angered eyes. She didn't want her husband going back into that city, she wanted him to stay here with her where she would at least know what happened to him if _anything_ did. She didn't want to wonder if he was okay, she didn't want to wonder if her son lost his father again. She didn't want to sit here and wonder if she would be a widow for real. She didn't want to sit here and be hounded by Shane, who was as big of a mistake as a teenage pregnancy. She stood, rubbing her long face and stared at her confusing husband. For him to go save someone like Merle Dixon - to risk his _life_ for someone like Merle Dixon - was painful, but she wanted Marcine happy. She didn't know what it was that made her gravitate towards the young woman so much, but she wanted her safe and happy. And if that meant letting her and Rick run off to the city and endanger their lives for someone like Merle well she would have to let them. She sighed and placed her hands on her hips, tonguing the inside of her left cheek.

"You and her are trying to give me gray hairs," she mumbled.

Rick chuckled but shook his head. "You don't need to worry about us, the others seem to think she's capable. . .we got this."

Lori didn't say anything, just watches Rick's back as he stood and ducked out of the tent. She looked down at her fidgeting hands in her lap, eventually burying her face into those hands.

* * *

><p>"Daryl," Marcine whispered, lifting open the tent flap.<p>

He was sitting on the bedroll, stuffing things into a bag with his back to the 'door'. She swallowed and stepped inside the tent, zipping it closed behind her and crouched down beside him. She placed a hand on his shoulder and he whipped around, pressing her into the tent floor with both hands firmly on her shoulder. He practically growled at her, teeth bared and he got close to her face, blue eyes staring into her dark ones. Marcine trembled beneath him, squirming under his grip but that only served to make him tighten his hold.

"Do not _ever_ touch me."

She shook a little. "Daryl what the Hell is wrong with you?"

He pushed himself up using her as a support and she cried out at the pain his weight caused on her bones. He stood above her, panting and then reached down, grabbing her by her forearm and jerked her to her feet. Marcine stared up at him with wide eyes, rubbing her left shoulder; she winced. This was the second time he had hurt her in the last twenty minutes. What was going on? Could this simply be over _Merle_?

He cursed and turned around, crouching down to the bag he had been packing. He paused for a moment and then cursed, tossing the bag against the wall of the tent. Clothes and other things flew everywhere and Marcie squeaked, jumping back a step. He stood there for a moment, hands braced at his sides before he turned around to look at her again. She swallowed thickly as he rubbed his face.

"They fuckin left 'im behind," he muttered, placing his hands on his hips.

Marcine nodded. "And we're gonna go get him."

He looked her up and down and nodded, reaching for his crossbow that was leaning against the makeshift table in one corner of the tent. "We're going today, right now. Let's go."

Marcine nodded and her fingers ran over the handle of the machete she had strapped to her thigh. She looked back over at him and he knew the dilemma, digging into his back pocket. He passed her a pistol and she cradled it in her hands, testing the weight. It was small, nothing too dangerous, mostly for close combat but it was something that he had even given her a gun.

"I would rather just have the machete" she muttered, following him out of the tent; it was the same gun that had given her a bloody nose.

"Yeah well get over it," Daryl mumbled.

Marcine shrugged and looked up, seeing that Rick person talking to Shane and T-Dog. Rick was dressed in a cop uniform, his clean face too serious for her liking; he looked so young and fresh, too clean for this world. He looked up when he noticed them and so did Shane; he glared at Daryl and Marcine, unlike Rick who just _stared_. He shoved an absolutely gorgeous pistol into his gun belt and Shane growled, walking away - well more like stomped away. Rick took the few steps to clear the distance between the duo, T-Dog and Glenn following at his heels.

"We're ready to go, what about you guys," Rick asked.

Daryl and Marcine looked between each other. She knew he wanted it to just be her and him, but they would need the back up. Marcine shrugged and stepped forward a little, willing to bridge the gap between Rick and Daryl. Not because she liked the man, really, but because he had already seems to corral some of the control from Shane and it gave her butterflies; she didn't want Shane to have anything.

"We're ready to go, but why are _they _coming," she jerked her chin over at T-Dog and Glenn.

Rick looked over his shoulder at them and shook his head a little, looking back over at her. "Glenn is our navigation, T-Dog feels responsible."

"Because he _is_ responsible," she growled.

T-Dog narrowed his eyes for a moment and then he sighed, making Marcine glare at him. "I didn't mean to drop the key," he defended, crossing his arms.

Marcine rolled her eyes. "Whatever, I don't care. Let's get the fuck out of here and into the city alright," she stomped past the three men.

Daryl grunted and followed behind her, pushing past T-Dog roughly. Rick stared after them and then looked over at T-Dog and Glenn. They both appeared sheepish, so Rick wasn't the only one that felt that untouched aura around the Dixon and the small woman. . .

"Guess we're leaving then. . ." Rick sighed.

* * *

><p>"I guess the saw blade was too dull for the handcuffs."<p>

Marcine wants to barf, hack up whatever is left in her stomach and then she wants to rip T-Dog's throat out with her teeth.

But the ties kind if hinder that plan.

They'd finally made it into the city, up to the roof top Merle was supposedly cuffed to and all they get is a fat hand rotting in the mid-day sun.

She'd went after T-Dog first, seeing as he was the one to drop the key - and then she'd gone after Rick. He'd easily incapacitated her and had Glenn tie her up with zip ties. Daryl hadn't generally protested, but the taunt of an arrow through T-Dog's skull spoke enough that if more were done, he'd willingly go out trying to kill Rick.

Daryl shakes his head softly, twisting Merle's hand and muttering something along the lines of _ain't that a bitch_ before he folds it up in the blue rag. Glenn looks less than pleased as Daryl shoves the hand into his pack, Marcine chuckling softly despite the sick feeling in her gut.

"He musta used a tourniquet," Daryl murmurs and crouches down behind Marcine, steadying her with a heavy hand on the shoulder when she goes to lurch at Rick; he's cut her free. "Maybe his belt. . .there's be much more blood if he didn't."

And there's still a shit load of blood, Marcine side steps it as she follows behind Daryl, glaring back at Rick; he just looks down. They trail off towards an open door on the opposite side of the building, Rick pulling his gun front and center while Marcine just palms her machete; middle of the city, a gun is stupid.

Just like yelling down a foreign stair case.

"_Merle_," Marcine groans and reaches out to Daryl, but he just shakes her off. "You in here?!"

Its a steady procession downstairs, Marcine ending up beside Glenn. She hesitates and hs looks the same way but she gives him a small smile and hooks her arm through his.

"Sorry you have a hand in your back pack," she hums, hearing Daryl and the other two opening a door below them.

"Sorry about Merle," Glenn mumbles. "I guess."

Marcine chuckles. "I only want Merle back for Daryl," _right? _

"Sure seemed to be pretty angry yourself," Glenn arched an eyebrow at her but Marcine shrugged and brushed him off once they entered the department store floor.

"Acting," she chirped and raised her machete.

They trailed around the moldy clothes and towards the back of the floor and towards the offices, Marcine arching an eyebrow at the dripping jaw of what was once possibly a very pretty girl. But she collapses with an arrow between her eyes, Daryl moving fluidly to jerk the arrow from her face.

"He made a damn mess," Marcine murmured as they emptied out into a wide hallway, offices flanking them on either side. "Think he's still in the building?"

"We gon' look anyway," Daryl griped, arrow held up in place of his knife. "Now shut the fuck up."

And she did, gaining looks from the others but she didn't care. Her limbs jumped and snapped up when she heard a gurgling to her left, wincing as she hacked up through the air and got her weapon lodged deep into the Walkers skull. It dropped with a thud and Marcine braced her boot against the Walkers chest, kicking it back before she flicked the blood from the blade.

"What," she griped at Glenn and T-Dog, who were blatantly staring at her.

They just turned away. Marcine releases a heavy sigh, wrapped up in the silence and subtle thumps of everyone's boots on the itchy carpet. _Clear head. . .clear head. . .yeah right._

"Had enough in em to take out these two sons 'bitches," Daryl smirked slightly as they all shuffled around two dropped Walkers.

"One handed," Marcine added, gaining a strange look from Daryl and a slightly scolding look from Rick.

Daryl hummed as he braces the head of his crossbow against the floor, pulling back the weight. "Toughest asshole I ever met, ma brother," he grunted. "Could feed him a hammer and he'd crap out nails."

Rick let his eyes flicker to Marcine, who was watching him from the corner of her eye; he looked away. "Any man could pass out from blood loss," Rick said and Marcine couldn't even find it in her to be snarky; he was right, after all. "No matter how tough he is," Rick sighed and raised his gun, pushing past Daryl.

Glenn stared down at the Walker as the others passed, Marcine giving him a shrill whistle. Glenn picked up his head and released a heavy sigh, jogging to catch up with her.

"Really think Merle's okay," he whispered.

Marcine shrugged, wagging her machete at Daryl, who was easing open the office kitchen door. "I told you, I'm here for him," she paused. "But. . .I have my own doubts."

"_Merle_," Daryl barked out again, stooping low as they walked around a corner.

"We're not alone here," Rick hissed in his ear. "Remember that."

Daryl didn't even spare him a side glance. "Screw that," he murmured. "He could be bleeding out you said so yourself."

Marcine opened her mouth to speak but scrunched her face up, the scent of burnt flesh becoming stronger and stronger the further they moved in. There was a small stove against the wall, little plumes of flames hissing in the air and there was Merle's belt. . .next to a scraper that had gooey, shiny flesh still charred to the surface.

Rick picked it up, his face creasing in a weird way. "What's that stuff," Glen murmured, peering over his shoulder.

Rick didn't even look up. "Skin," his voice was gruff. "He cauterized the stump," he looked over at Glenn, lips slightly pursing.

"Told you he was tough," Marcine looked over at Daryl, who was looking at Rick in a way that seemed. . ._childish_. "Ain't nothin that can kill Merle cept Merle."

* * *

><p>Marcine dug her teeth into the man's hand, hearing him scream out in pain and let her arm go. She didn't let his hand go, kept a tight hold as he swung her battered body around, teeth digging into his chubby hand even as he reached up and knocked her in her head. She dug in again, feeling her teeth touch through the webbing of his thumb and forefinger. He screamed loudly and really started tossing her around, knocking her against the dumpster beside them, and finally getting her to let go.<p>

She hit the ground with an _oomph _and crumpled, watching them scramble to their car, guns and Glenn in their arms. She pushed herself up sloppily, blood dripping from her narrow chin, but Walkers crowded the chain link fence and she screamed, stumbling back a few steps. Marcine stood there for a moment, watching the Walkers gnawing at the chain link and felt her heart beating in her chest. She whipped around, running over to Daryl, who was laying on the ground, groaning with his back arched in pain.

She placed both of her hands on the sides of his face, patting his cheek a little. "Daryl. . .Daryl are you okay?"

He nodded and nudged her off of him. "I'm fine, leave me alone."

She nodded and looked up, narrowing her eyes at the thin boy staring at her. She looked down her front, seeing the thick layer of blood down her front, and then she looked back at him with blown pupils. His eyes flickered up to hers again and he whimpered, scrambling to his feet but she was quicker, lighter, and she launched herself at him, successfully tackling him to the ground as Rick and T-Dog came around the corner.

She bent low, hissing in his ear. "See what I did to your friend," she licked the blood on her lips and grinned, pressing her thumb nail into his chest. "I plan on doin' _worse _to you."

He screamed but she clamped a hand over his mouth, pushing herself up with the nail pricking his skin. Blood was beginning to rush and stain the nail of her thumb. She wished the others could have gotten here a little slower, she wanted to have a little fun. . .

"What happened," Rick asked, jerking the boy to his feet.

"Little fucker and his buddies took Glenn," Marcine growled, jumping at the boy, who jerked in response. "Pathetic," she snapped.

"Marcine calm down," Daryl stepped up to her side.

Rick muttered a curse under his breath and then looked over at Marcine. "Think you two can go look for a safe place for us to figure out what the Hell we're gonna do?"

Marcine nodded and grabbed onto Daryl's arm. "Come on."

Twenty odd minutes later they were all sitting in an old office room, staring at the young boy with scrutinizing eyes as he ran his mouth. He thought he was some tough shit - honestly thought that all this talk he was throwing out meant something. Marcine and Daryl locked eyes and she grinned, looking back over to the boy; he tensed up, eyes focused on her when they should be focused on Daryl. Marcine laughed like a maniac when she saw the hand fly into the boys lap, flopping like a wet fish; it also hurt like Hell to see Merle's severed hand being used but seemed worth it. The boy stuttered and sort of screamed and tossed the hand somewhere else, pushing the chair he was sitting in back.

"You fuckin psycho man," he screamed a little.

Marcine and Daryl chuckled, Daryl leaning against the wall beside Marcine. "I think we should leave this group afta this," he muttered into her ear.

She shivered and tucked her ear against her shoulder for a second, looking up at him with half lidded eyes. He was smirking down at her, one eyebrow raised; he hadn't had the opportunity to make a girl do _that_ in a long time.

"Don't get close like that again," she hissed.

He looked over at T-Dog and Rick, who were paying little to no attention to the two of them. He leaned back in, pressing his lips against the tender skin below her lobe. A shiver rocked through her and she reached up, dragging her nails across his bicep; she lacked subtlety. Her eyes stayed locked with the other three in the room, making sure they didn't turn around to see what they were doing. His tongue trailed up and down her throat, making her bite her lip to hold back the moan she wanted to give. He smirked against her throat and pulled back, straightening against the wall. She glared up at him, cheeks flushed, and all he did was smirk and run his thumb over his bottom lip.

"We have to go get Glenn."

Marcine looked over at Rick and T-Dog. "Well, let's just get it over with, I want to get back to camp," her voice had a slight tremor in it.

Rick and T-Dog shared a glance and Rick nodded. "Then let's do this," he unzipped the bag of weapons, passing out weapons. He gave T-Dog a scoped rifle, Marcine just took a few extra rounds of ammo and Daryl kept to the technical hostage. "Think you can do this," he asked Marcine.

She glared. "_Let's do this_," she reminded him.


	13. Hope

_One shot, down._

_One shot, down._

_One shot, down._

He could hear the whistle of the arrow, could feel the muscles in his shoulder coil in conditioned recoil of the crossbow.

He dug the butt of his crossbow into the ground and loaded another fletch into the slot, looking over at Marcine as she grabbed onto Sophia's shirt collar, pulling the child to her and firing a shot into the forehead of a Walker coming towards them. It slumped at her feet and she kicked it aside, firing into the skull of another Walker and pushing the child into the arms of her mother that was hysterical.

Marcine looked around for him, finding him a ways behind her with a sigh of relief. She jogged over to him and pressed herself against his side as he fired another arrow.

"Maybe I shouldn't have left," she said.

He reloaded, waiting for a chance at another Walker. "Wouldn' make a difference."

She shook her head. "They would have had someone who wasn't so hysterical over their children," Marcine sighed.

He shook his head and pulled out his pistol. "No."

She looked up at him then sighed, jogging off towards Lori and Carl, making sure they were ok. Daryl unloaded a bullet into one Walkers skull, finding it to be the last one. He looked up as the younger blonde - Amy? - approached his side, blood dotted up her side and a fire poker in her hand. She gave him a small nod and jogged off, leaving him to realize she had just killed one that he hadn't seen coming for him.

Daryl walked over to the closest Walker and pressed his boot against its forehead, jerking out the arrow and moving to the next. Marcine was pulling the one farthest from him out and when Daryl looked up he noticed a pair of eyes on her rear end flailing in the air.

T-Dog caught _his_ eyes and looked away immediately while Daryl growled and stomped over to Marcine, grabbing her by her elbow and forcing her upright. She blinked in a daze, confused obviously by his sudden attack and then followed his narrowed eyes over at T-Dog, who was making it a point to look at anything but them.

A look of distaste and distrust settled over her pretty face and she pressed herself more against Daryl, fingers curling over his chest.

"I want to go to the tent," she muttered, pulling her arm out of his grasp.

He nodded and let her walk ahead of him, following behind her closely. She was his, what didn't they get about that? No other man was allowed to look at her that way, especially in front of him. That was a death wish, but they had all just suffered together so he wouldn't do anything.

_Yet_.

He ducked into the tent behind her, placing his crossbow against the shitty table he had made in the corner before he fell down onto his bedroll, rolling his back to her. He heard her moving around and rolled his head back a little, opening one eye as she moved her jeans over the swells of her hips.

He raised a brow to it but did nothing, just watched her bare ass flaunted in front of him. Did she think he wouldn't see? Or did she care anymore? It seemed like she knew who she belonged to so she had to know he would see. . .

"We're leaving. . ." she muttered, dropping her shirt on the tent floor.

He grumbled and watched the silhouette of her right breast against the side of the tent. "Why ya say that?"

She turned to him, one arm covering her breasts and she crouched down, tugging on his arm for him to sit up. "_Because_," she started, using her free hand to work on the buttons of his shirt. "Rick wants to get to the CDC, see if there are people there working on a cure."

Daryl grunted and let her tug his shirt off of him. "There ain't no God damn cure."

She shrugged and stood, pulling on his shirt with her back to him. She finished the top button and slid down to the spot at his side, pressing herself against his side. She was so damn hot, like she had a fever but she seemed fine; could just be like his mama was, always hot.

"Rick has hope," she murmured.

"Hope is a dangerous thing."

Marcine bit her lip and nodded, closing her eyes. "You stink."

He rolled his eyes then sighed, staring at her circles surrounding her eyes. "You sick?"

She opened her dark eyes and stared up at him for a moment. "No, no why?"

He shook his head and closed his own eyes, reaching up to place a hand against the side of her head. "You wanna follow em?"

"Why do you care about my opinion?"

"Tryin ta be nice."

He heard her sigh. "I don't know. . .yeah I guess. Just to see if there is possibly a cure to this. . ._whatever_ it is."

There was no cure, there would never be a cure to this thing. It was a plague, it would weed itself out or grow.

Daryl knew it would only grow from where it was. There weren't many people left already and it had only been a couple of months. He and Merle had seen whole camps wiped out, dozens, since this thing started. They had been at the helm of it all, helping kill who needed to be killed, and kill those who didn't need to be killed. The only thing Daryl had not participated in was the rapes.

That was _all_ Merle's genius plan. He wanted poon and he got it, viciously.

Daryl had already seen plenty of women get raped before Merle started it, starting with his mother. He and Merle weren't the only ones in the house that got physical abuse. He had walked in a many of times when his mother was saying _no_, was begging for his father to stop, and her cries went unheard. He loved his mother, more than he would ever let on. She was a real mother when they weren't dirt poor, when Merle was fourteen and Daryl was six.

He remembered saying goodbye to his mom on the front porch on his way to kindergarten, remembered her telling him she loved him every morning no matter how big of a brat he was.

And then his dad got his claws into her and she gave up on life.

A cold hand laid across his chest and his eyes snapped open, hearing Marcine's deep, even breathes against his ear. He sighed and ran a hand over his face, wishing she hadn't taken his shirt.

She couldn't see the scars, she just couldn't.

He may not be Prince _Fucking_ Charming, he may have hit her and yelled at her, been rough and teased her, but he honestly wanted to keep that from her. He wanted to keep it from everyone.

"Daryl?"

He jumped; hwe thought she was asleep. "Wha'?"

She breathed in deeply. "Jus wanted to make sure it was you."

"Who else would it be?"

She shivered a little. "It just. . .it didn't feel like you for a minute."

"What do ya mean?"

She sighed, running her hand across his chest and stomach for a moment. "You just. . .you felt so smooth for a moment. . .I thought you were a million different people. But it's you now and I'm tired."

He looked at her hair through the dim light of the lamp in the tent and rolled his head to the side.

"Sure."

* * *

><p>Marcine grunted, hefting the Walker body over her shoulder, and abruptly dropped it into the grave at her feet.<p>

She arched her back in discomfort and swayed side to side, grabbing the shovel and digging the end into the ground.

They had been filling graves all morning.

Marcine watched Daryl's shoulders and biceps flex as he poured dirt into one of the graves, admiring the view until a smiling face blocked it. Glenn held up the bottle of water and Marcine smiled a little, tossing the cap somewhere to her left; no sense in worrying about littering now.

"Thanks, Glenn," she said as water dribbled down her chin.

He smiled wider. "No problem, its just so hot out here I thought you would like some water, even luke warm water."

She chuckled and took a sip, waving Daryl over as he patted down the dirt atop a new grave. "Oh yeah this is fantastic," she passed the bottle to Daryl. "This it," she gestured to the grave she was preparing to fill.

Daryl nodded and wiped his brow, staring at Glenn with disapproving blue eyes. "What chu want?"

Glenn raised a scrawny brow at Daryl. "Uh. . .just bringing Marcine, and apparently _you_, some water. It's hot."

Daryl nodded and splashed Marcine with some water as she started to stare off into space. She blinked and glared at him, scooping up a mound of dirt to dump over the Walker body at the bottom of the pit. He seemed to snicker a little and did it again, taking the final sip and making her glare daggers.

"Fuck off Daryl Dixon," she muttered, shoveling another mound of dirt onto the Walkers serene face.

"With pleasure."

She glared over her shoulder at him then smiled at Glenn. "Can you go fetch Rick for me please dear?"

He stuttered and then nodded, turning around and walking off towards camp. Marcine smiled over at Daryl, seeing his eyes on the city, then her eyes followed. She knew what he was thinking about, _Merle_. She was thinking about him too, wandering if he was alive, if he was well. He had cut off his own hand, that was a stupid thing to do in the first place. He knew Daryl and Marcine would come for him the moment they got back to camp. Or did he?

"Fucking idiot," Daryl muttered.

Marcine nodded and looked over at him, eyes flitting across his face, and she smiled. "I think there's some form of hope at the CDC."

He snorted. "Still on about that?"

"Daryl, it might mean our survival. Yes, I am still on about it."

He looked down at her, brow scrunched in confusion. "Why are ya followin' me around?"

She blinked. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "Why ya stick wit me? Just been cruel and spiteful towards ya since you walked yer ass over to our side of camp."

She chewed on her lip a little and smiled, reaching up to throw her arms around his neck, purring against his chest. He arched a fuzzy eyebrow slowly at her, hands on her hips as she swayed them right and left. The amusement in her eyes annoyed him, but it seemed something else was rolling around in that deceivingly twisted noggin of hers. She was adapting to he and Merle fast, it was a bit disturbing, even to him.

"Daryl even after what you have done to me, which hasn't been much mind you, you are _safe_," she shook her head softly. "Just doing everything you have proves to me that you are the safest person in the group, probably anywhere right now. I haven't had safety since I was a kid and I like this. I like being safe."

He stared at her, long enough to make her uncomfortable under his gaze; he liked that. They looked over when they heard someone clear their throats. Rick stood to their right, staring down at the ground with his brow scrunched in confusion. Marcine let her arms drop down and Rick looked up again, looking rather tense and. . .scared. She didn't realize how predatory she was gazing at him, like she couldn't wait to. . .just do what she wanted to do with him.

"Glenn said you needed me," he said after a moment of silence passed.

Marcine nodded and pushed on Daryl's arm, a silent way to tell him to leave them alone. He nodded and glared at Rick, stomping past him and back towards camp. She watched him leave towards camp, teeth grinding tender flesh of her cheek.

"I wanted to talk to you about the CDC," she looked back over at him, squinting against the sun.

Rick sighed and sort of rolled his eyes. "I've been getting enough grief about this from Shane, alright? I don't need it from anyone else."

Marcine waved a hand at him. "Shut up Rick and let me talk. I wanted to know why you want to go there exactly. Do you think it's safe?"

He stared at her for a moment then scratched at the back of his head. "Well. . .yes. I mean, if there's a possibility for a cure they would be working on it there right? And that means the government, what's left of it anyway, will want to keep it as safe as possible. I think they have a military installation there, and possibly a cure, if not they are close."

Marcine swallowed thickly. "So you really have hope?"

He nodded. "Yeah. . .yeah I do."

**Hope**.

Daryl was right, it was a dangerous thing, but it was something they all needed right now.

Marcine smiled widely and took a step forward, holding out a hand to Rick, holding her other hand behind her back. He stared at her with wide eyes for a moment, obviously confused by her sudden display of _affection_ towards him. He gave the smallest of smiles and took her long hand in his, giving it a firm shake and when they let each other's hands go Marcine placed both hands behind her back and smiled at him warmly.

He may have gotten Merle lost to them, he may have fucked everything up for her and Daryl, but Marcine wanted to like Rick. She hadn't known Merle for long, but she already knew what he was like and no doubt he was causing more harm than good. Rick had said he was shooting off of the building, drawing the attention of all of the Walkers in the area. That had sounded like Merle, too high to care about safety.

There was no other choice. No other God damn choice. And she _certainly_ liked Rick more so than Shane. Shane seemed. . .something seemed off about Shane and it just didn't settle so well with Marcine.

Rick was a true born leader, Shane was a novice.

Of course, Marcine thought Daryl was a better leader than any of them. He was tough and bright, intimidating and everything that a leader should be. Then again, Marcine knew Rick could probably be that way too if he had enough experience.

"When do we leave then," she asked.

He shrugged. "Not sure, everyone needs a little rest after last night. . ." Rick shook his head. "Leaving was a bad idea."

Marcine would be offended if she wasn't already at terms with Merle's absence. "Yeah, it kind of was. But. . .Daryl and I would have left if we wouldn't have just went for closure."

Rick looked Marcine up and down. "Why do you stay by his side?"

Marcine laughed. "He just asked me the same question."

"And?"

She shrugged. She didn't want to give _him_ the same answer she gave Daryl. He would never understand.

"I love Daryl. It's as simple as that. Haven't you ever done something you regret when you were angry Rick," she asked, referring to when Daryl had slapped her.

He smiled a little and nodded. "Yeah I guess so. . ."

Marcine nodded, even though this was a total lie. "Daryl already apologized to me. He was just angry, that was the first time he had done something like that to me."

Damn she was a liar. And Rick was buying it. He sighed and nodded. "Ok, I just don't. . .I don't want you to wind up like an abused housewife okay?"

Marcine laughed again. "Don't worry Rick, I'm fine. I also wanted to know if you needed us to do anything today, like go on a supply run or anything."

Ricks eyes lit up. "As a matter of fact I need a few people to check out this gas station up the road a ways. Glenn says it's far out and no one's had the chance to go check it out."

Marcine nodded and stuffed her hands into her pockets. "Yeah I think we could do that, I'll go tell Daryl right now and we'll head right out."

Rick placed a hand on her shoulder, oblivious to the way her shoulder tensed up. "Thank you, Marcine."

She smiled a little and breathed a sigh of relief when he removed his hand. "Rick it's no problem, really."

And it wasn't a problem. She didn't _like_ Rick, but she didn't _hate_ him. She thought he was stupid kind of. . .but no, he was a leader. This may have been a dangerous move, a risky move, going to the CDC, but Rick was right in every way what the outcomes could be. Marcine was for it, she wanted it to be okay. She wanted _everything_ to be okay. She wanted this to all be over with.

She grabbed onto Daryl as she reached their tent, pressing her lips against his tan, dusty shoulder. He raised a brow at her, his hands coated in squirrel blood; oh so romantic.

"What," he grumbled.

She tugged on his arms a little. "Come on, we're going on a run."

"Where," he let her drag him towards his truck, crossbow on his shoulder.

"Rick said there's a store no one's been to yet. Let's go," she opened the driver's door and pushed him towards it.

She skipped around to the other side, pistol in her back pocket, and jumped in as he started the truck. She watched the eyes trailing after them as they backed up and started down the road, her fingers lacing with Daryl's on the stick shift. He didn't squeeze her hand like he had back at the subdivision, just continued down the road as though she wasn't touching him at all.

"Why did ya volunteer us fer this?"

Marcine looked over at Daryl. "Because I wanted to get away from the camp," she looked out the window at the trees that blurred past them. "It's so damn depressing there."

"Every where's depressing."

Marcine shrugged. "I guess I just want to live in denial a little bit longer."

They sat in silence the rest of the drive, Marcine over thinking everything in her head while Daryl tapped a tune against the steering wheel. She looked over at him occasionally, saw his brow creased in confusion and something else, but Marcine didn't really care. She pulled her hand away from his and placed it with her other one in her lap, absentmindedly playing with her long nails.

"I wonder if mom is alive," she mused, looking out the window again; she hadn't really meant to say that aloud.

"Didn' ya say she was crazy," so he was going along with it? What a trooper.

Marcine nodded. "She was

Daryl snorted, turning onto a dusty paved road. "High society in Atlanta…"

Marcine chuckled. "Yeah, she was always a little. . .off. She refused to let me or my sister get to know the only family we had - from her side. Said they hated her and were too religious for her taste pallet. . .she used to watch those shows like Dateline and Forensic Files for days at a time, I swear she had a murder journal. Like all of these methods of killing or maybe it was the way some serial killers like Ted Bundy killed. . .I don't know, it was weird. Sherri started begging me to let her move in when I left for the city."

"Sherri?"

"My sister," she smiled. "My _little _sister. . .scared of her own mother though, I mean how does that even happen," she shook her head in a bitter manner. "Some times I feel like I get like that. . .all wrapped up in some kind of crazy shit. Like I'm just gonna end up like my mother. . ."

"Cus ya won't let me go."

Marcine looked over at Daryl, feeling the truck give a jerk as they stopped in front of the gas station. "No Daryl," she sighed.

He nodded and kicked open his door. "Yeah, all because you wouldn't go on like we told ya ta do the moment ya came into camp. Now you're like us. . .like your mother," at least what she aspired to be.

He and Merle had done the exact shit, believe it or not. Well, Daryl did - had to learn how the legacies didn't get caught, _why _they got caught - so he and Merle wouldn't get caught.

Marcine swallowed and looked down. She could sit there and deny him, he was right though, but she didn't want to blame him. Sure she was his partner now, but she did honestly want to be with Daryl. It's not like they could be arrested now, it gave her some sort of high knowing she could basically do whatever she wanted.

Marcine shook her head. "It doesn't matter Daryl," she reached over and placed her hand on his knee, giving it a squeeze. "I want to be with you Daryl, I don't care anymore. Maybe we can change."

Daryl shook his head and stepped out of the truck. "No, I can't change, an' you helped Merle with that woman. . .neither of us can change."

Marcine nodded and stepped out of the truck as well, looking up at the gas station. "What do you think we need?"

They started walking towards the gas station, Daryl looking around while Marcine stalked ahead, fingers curled around the pistol in her back pocket.

"Food, gas is gone. Get anything else ya want really."

Marcine nodded but he was already gone, so she walked inside, weapon out, and kept her eyes up above the shelves. She could handle a Walker with her own hands, she didn't need a gun for them, but if there was a human in here. . .she had a fifty/fifty chance she would be ok. She grabbed an old basket from by the door and started tossing what food items she could find, chuckled as she stuffed sweets into the basket. She didn't want to share any of those with anyone in the group, which was a bit of a childish act but. . .

She placed the now full basket by the door and grabbed another, going back for miscellaneous items they needed that no one had managed to get. Batteries, flashlights, bathing essentials she wanted to hang on to for as long as possible. She stared at a few small, thin boxes and bit her lips, looking around before she slipped a few into the bottom of the basket. _Just in case_, she muttered in her head and went to the feminine aisle.

"You got everything?"

She looked up and over to Daryl, who was looking at the door, then sighed. "Yeah I guess so. Still, you should make a sweep just in case while I get this stuff out to the truck."

Daryl nodded and slung himself, quite literally, into the store and started going through the aisles slowly and skeptically. He picked up a few stray items she didn't see, but Marcine didn't bother with that and poured everything into bags, jogging out to the truck. She opened her door and stuffed everything into the she free space in front of her seat, looking up when se heard something behind her.

Just a Walker.

She grabbed the knife in the door compartment and jogged forward, driving the grated knife into the Walkers forehead. It gurgled and slumped to the ground as she jerked the knife out, landing on one of her boots. She jerked herself back and wiped the knife off on her jeans, walking back to the truck.

Daryl tossed a small bag in the back of the bed and jerked his chin at her. Marcine nodded, sliding into the passenger seat while he started the truck, pulling away from the gas station.

"Anywhere else we could go that you could think of," Marcine asked.

He swallowed thickly and leaned over, reaching is hand to hook into her thigh. It sent a chill through her thighs and up her stomach, making it clench and unclench as she looked over at him, eyes glazed but fearful.

It took a split second and she lurched at him, his left hand cocking the seat back as her lips attacked him, hands shaking around his face. He growled against her bottom lip and his hands roamed in a rough pressure down her hips and around her thighs, kneading her ass and making Marcine groan and crane her neck up.

His teeth plucked at her throat, pulling her hard against the bulge in his jeans.

She was trembling against him, eyes sealed tight but her hands were still and sure as she reached between them. Her hand massaged the strain against his zipper and Daryl groaned, hips bucking up against hers once before he heard the crackle of the zipper going down.

"Jesus fuck," he growled as she teased him out of his jeans, a devilish smirk to her face. "Need ta hurry the fuck up," he snapped and slapped her ass.

Marcine gasped and yelped, jerking when her head hit the roof of the truck. She grumbled and continued to palm him in a teasing manner, his fingers popping the button of her own jeans. After some intense panting and yelped curses, an abrupt kick of the leg, Marcine finally settled herself against him; jeans discarded in her seat. Her eyes ran up his chest and his throat, to his hooded eyes and parted lips that twitched when she stroked her hand up him languidly.

Marcine rolled her hips, heat rubbing against his shaft in a way that seemed to annoy him, but she didn't really care. She chewed on her lip a little as she strained on her thighs, hovering over him for just a second before she began to ease down around him.

Her eyes fluttered closed and her head rolled on her shoulders as her heat enveloped him. Daryl groaned and bruised her hips as she reflexively clenched around him, the feel nearly silky.

Her hips met his and she stilled, cheeks flushed and a heat spreading over the back of Marcine's neck. His fingers loosened around her hips and Daryl ran his hand up her stomach, grasping one of her breasts through the fabric of her shirt and drawing a breathy moan from her lips.

"Move," he ordered and her eyes opened to him, her tongue snaking out against her bottom lip.

When she moved, he moaned and she relished the sound, her own sigh of pleasure coming from her lips though her thighs already ached. It'd been far too long. . .and he felt just right, heavy and full inside of her; her groin ached.

Her breath hitched and climbed as she stroked down on him, the small space becoming humid in their efforts. Daryl grabbed the back of her thighs and began to move her faster against him, arching up and pulling her lips against his. Her fingers danced around his collar bone and his neck, breath panting and squeaking as she slowly began to come undone around him. The sounds were far from modest and it only seemed to make the warmth pooling in her stomach grow and grow until it burst.

Marcine ached to throw her head back but the roof of the car prevented that, but hearing his groans against her chest were enough. Her walls clenched and drug out around him, making everything increasingly sensitive but she wasn't complaining; it was a fantastic kind of raw.

She panted as she relaxed, leaning back delicately against the steering wheel as she tried to catch her breath. "We're gonna have to do this again," she said in a breath.

He snorted. "I have a few ideas. . ."

There was a beat of silence.

"We also really need to get back to camp."


End file.
